Harry Potter and the Giant Peach
by Dragonanzar
Summary: Harry is miserable and lonely living with his hateful relatives. One day, a strange man visits him in the middle of the night. The man gives Harry a bag of magical objects which promise to transform Harry's life forever. In a magic-filled adventure, Harry makes new friends and meets both old and new enemies.
1. Prologue

A/N Well, as you might have guessed, this is a crossover between Harry Potter and Roald Dahl's 'James and the Giant Peach'. The story is based on the film where real people are used and the bugs look as if they're made out of plasticine and so does transformed James. I haven't read the book in ages, so I can't remember whether the film is close to the original story or not.

I've also taken artistic licence with the Harry Potter story. In this story Harry was four when his parents were killed and so he remembers the night better as well as remembering some of what his parents were like and some of what they said. His relatives therefore threaten him with a 'serial killer' instead of saying his parents were killed by a car crash. They had also managed to half-convince Harry that magic is only a dream: he was only four, after all, and there haven't been many magical happenings since. He's now about eight/nine. I think that's enough background.

On another note: I've actually managed to finish another story that's more than one chapter! Whoo! For me, that's a real achievement, even if this story won't be hugely long. Feedback will, of course, be appreciated.

Please don't take this seriously: it's not meant to even begin to fit in with canon: I'm just playing around with the characters.

"Boy!" The sound of his Aunt Petunia's shrill voice pierced the wood of Harry's cupboard door. "Up! Now! Your Uncle and cousin are hungry and want breakfast."

"Coming, Aunt Petunia," Harry muttered sleepily. He sat up, minding his head on the sloping roof, and quickly pulled on some of Dudley's over-sized rags. His cupboard had been unlocked so he was able to push the door open and stumble into the kitchen.

"Hurry up freak," snapped Uncle Vernon. "Christmas will be here before our breakfast if you don't look sharp!"

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon," Harry mumbled keeping his eyes down. He quickly shuffled over to the stove and cooked up the usual breakfast. This consisted of: enough eggs to make a dozen cakes; so much bacon it must have used a whole pig; a whole loaf of bread; a large pat of butter; a tomato plant of round red fruit; a four-pack of Heinz's baked beans. Harry was continually amazed that three, well, mostly two, people could put away so much food. It also always rankled when he was barely allowed scraps of toast and maybe a rind of bacon, yet his relatives constantly complained he ate them out of house and home. As always, he forced down the bitterness and the memories of once being happy and contented, retaining a blank expression.

After hungrily munching the pitiful leftovers he was given, he tidied up, washed up, then went upstairs to hurriedly brush his teeth and comb his hair, much good it did him. Grabbing the school bag that used to be Dudley's until he tore a hole in it, Harry dashed out the door, just in time to catch the school bus at the end of the road. Dudley, of course, would be taken to school by Petunia, so didn't need to leave as early as the bus which had to make several more stops before reaching the school.

The day passed pretty normally. Harry kept his head down in class, answering quietly when called upon, but never volunteering information. He knew from past experience that he should never behave in a way that would get the Dursleys called in, whether it was for a good or a bad reason. If it was for something bad, usually because Dudley blamed something on him or he actually hit back for once, the Dursleys would punish him for 'sullying their good names'. If it was for something good, as had happened once when he got 100% on his end of term Maths test, the Dursleys accused him of cheating and copying Dudley and punished him for that. No, it was better to keep his head down and not stick out. The teacher, tired and frazzled from twenty-nine other kids all demanding her attention, was always silently grateful for the one who rarely ever caused trouble.

Harry had once tried to tell someone about the way he was treated at home: from his memories and from what other children said, he was pretty sure it wasn't normal. Not wise. Uncle Vernon had heard of it and had been furious. The Dursleys had to pretend he had Chicken-pox to explain why he wasn't in school for almost two weeks and then thought up various excuses for why he couldn't do PE until the bruises healed. Harry had found out later by listening at doors that the Principal of his school had been an old friend of Vernon's from Smeltings, Vernon's alma mater, and so had caught the ROC (record of concern) before anyone else saw it. Next thing that happened was that allegations of child molestation went around, centred around that teacher. Of course, the media caught wind of it and blew the issue up. There were no charges brought to bear and nothing was ever proved, but as a result the teacher was forced by social hostility to leave the district. Harry learnt a great deal about corruption and the power of words that term.

Harry enjoyed school, though, despite all that. As long as he kept quiet, Dudley mostly left him alone, except at play-times. He was able to get along well enough, and as long as he didn't get consistently more approving remarks and better scores than Dudley, the Dursleys left him alone when it came to school work. He kept a close eye on Dudley, making sure not to get anything new before him, and worked on the basis of getting one right answer in five. It worked, though he had had some odd comments from teachers. From listening in to conversations around him when they thought he wasn't there or couldn't hear, he gathered that the teachers thought he was plain lazy or a cheat as he wasn't consistent in the answers he got wrong. After that, he had tried remembering what he was supposed to be able to do and what he wasn't, but it was very hard and he didn't succeed much of the time.

The day followed the usual pattern: lesson in the morning where he kept his head down and worked, getting extra help, which he didn't really need, from the teacher and trying to stay out of sight as much as possible. At break-time he managed to avoid Dudley and his gang by hiding behind the corner of the building. There was another lesson and then lunch. As usual he had been given a lunch box with the minimum of food: an apple and a single bread and butter sandwich. He scarfed it down as quickly as possible: though Dudley had a lunch box bursting with his favourite things, it wasn't unknown for him to take Harry's, simply because he didn't want Harry to have anything. He wasn't so lucky avoiding Dudley this break, but he did avoid a beating by being fast and good at hiding. Then there was another couple of lessons and finally home-time.

Harry took the bus back, looking wistfully as he saw Dudley running to his mother to be picked up by car. As soon as he arrived home, a list of chores was shoved under his nose. He did as many as possible, as usual not managing to complete them all before Vernon got home. As a result, he was tossed a few leaves of lettuce, another piece of bread and a lump of cheese, then ordered to the cupboard. He was let out once more to tidy away supper and go have a quick shower, then tossed back in.

Harry waited until it was dark, waited while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon watched a film, the sounds drifting into his cupboard, then went up to bed. Finally the house was silent and still. Cautiously, Harry reached for the torch he had managed to snaffle from Dudley's bedroom a few days ago: the boy would never notice, not with all the clutter covering all available carpet space. He switched it on and slowly, so he created as little noise as was possible, he slipped a piece of paper from his school bag. He had snatched it from the recycling bin earlier that day to use at this time.

The furthest part of the cupboard, the bit where the ceiling was so low Harry could hardly fit his head there, let alone anything else, was the bit he used as a storage space. Behind the small pile of second-hand clothing was his secret stash: a small collection of colouring crayons, snaffled from the bin or when Dudley wasn't looking; a few figurines, all broken in some way; a marble found in the gutter; a worn cuddly toy he had had when he had been dumped on the Dursleys' doorstep and told to knock and hand them a letter. Whatever had been in the letter had made Petunia, his Aunt as he discovered later, pale and tremble horribly, then order him in curtly.

Harry took out some of the crayons and started drawing, humming very quietly as he did so. First he wrote 'Harry' in the centre of the paper, then started drawing figures around it. The last picture he drew was of two big figures holding the hand of a small figure who was between them. There were big smiles on all their faces. Harry hesitated before he added the last detail, but then shrugged. The Dursleys would be furious if they found the paper, whatever he drew. He put a stick in the free hands of the big figures and drew coloured sparkles coming out the ends. He hoped magic was real. He wished magic was real. As it was, he doubted it, not only because of the Dursleys' staunch denial of any possibility of supernatural happenings, but also because he hadn't seen any of it since his parents had died and who could trust a four-year-old's memories?

Finally, happy with the picture, Harry folded it up as one teacher had taught him. He gently teased out the bits of paper that should stick out and patted the bits of paper that should stay flat until his aim was reached: a paper ship. He decided he would drop it in the stream that ran under the road tomorrow morning on the way to the bus. Just as he was about to turn off the light, he felt a slight tickling on his foot. Looking down, he saw a big, black spider.

Unafraid, there were always spiders in his cupboard, he reached down and picked it up. It explored his cupped hands and wrists without fear, somehow sensing that Harry wouldn't hurt it.

"You'd better go outside, Mr Spider," Harry whispered to it. "My Aunt Petunia hates insects in the house. She'll whack you if she sees you. Go and spin your web somewhere safer. I'd take you if I could, but I'm locked in here 'till tomorrow morning." He sat quiescently for a few moments and then showed his boat proudly to the spider. "Don't you think it's pretty, Mr Spider? Would you ever want to sail in it? I would. I'd like to sail away from here, far, far away, but Aunt Petunia says if I leave without permission, the Cereal Killer will get me." He shuddered and bit his lip in fear. Shaking himself out of the memories of That Night, he put the spider near the door to his cupboard and nudged it until it crawled under through the gap. He hoped it would leave the house and not get found.

Harry then switched the torch off, hid it back in its hiding spot and lay down to sleep. He quickly succumbed to the pull of Morpheus, his body and mind exhausted from school and chores.


	2. Chapter 1: The Old Man

The next morning went past in the same way as the previous day had. He cooked breakfast, got a few scraps as recompense, tidied up the kitchen and himself and then dashed out the door, this time with a paper boat hidden in his bag. He ran to the bridge so he would have a little time to drop the boat in the small stream and watch it drift off. He thought wistfully that he would like to be sailing in that boat, escaping from this world.

The hooting of the bus announcing its presence brought him out of his reverie and he sprinted the last bit, jumping onto the bus just in time.

"Cutting it a bit close there," the bus driver said in a friendly tone. Harry panted and nodded, gasping out a 'sorry' as soon as he was able to. He settled himself in one of the front seats to avoid a couple of members of Dudley's gang who sat at the back. No one came to sit next to him on the whole journey. No one ever wanted to sit next to that Potter kid with the messy hair, taped glasses and dirty clothes who was always targeted by the Primary school's resident bully.

School happened as usual with the exception of Harry losing his lunch to Dudley's predations and gaining a few bruises for his trouble. He got home to another long list of chores, impossible to do in time. One of them was re-painting the wooden fence with creosote to stop the wasps from chewing it during the spring and summer months, as well as protect it from the weather and other insects during the rest of the year. He had only half-finished by the time his Uncle returned. Vernon was not pleased.

"Lazy boy!" he shouted, whacking Harry across the face with his backhand and sending him to the floor. "Do you think a half-painted fence is any use? Stupid freak! You'll come and cook dinner for us, then go out and paint until it's finished, even if it takes you all night." Harry slowly scrambled up and looked downwards in submission. Vernon nodded, pleased with himself. "Go and cook dinner then, boy, and mind you don't burn it!"

Halfway through cooking dinner, Harry heard a shriek coming from the corridor. He poked his head out cautiously, to find Petunia desperately flailing around with a magazine.

"Spider!" she screeched. "Spider, in my house!" Vernon came thundering down the stairs. "Get it, Vernon! Get that nasty black vermin!" Harry gasped: it was the spider from last night, he was pretty sure.

"No," he whispered in anguish. Without thinking, he dashed forwards and took a blow of the magazine which would have squashed it. He scrabbled at the spider, trying to catch it.

"Out the way, Boy," Uncle Vernon commanded. Taking his life into his hands, Harry disobeyed the order, finally managing to scoop up the spider. He then retreated, looking warily at his Uncle whose face had turned purple. "Give me that spider, Boy," Vernon said in a deceptively calm voice. Pale and petrified with fear, Harry shakily shook his head and backed away towards the kitchen. Vernon stomped towards him and he turned tail, running towards the back door leading from the kitchen.

Making it outside, he quickly crouched down by a bush tipping his hand and nudging the spider off it.

"Quickly, Mr Spider. We don't have much time! He'll be out here any minute." Finally, ages later it seemed, the spider got the message and crawled off, quickly hidden in the darkness of the undergrowth. A moment later Harry was seized by the neck and dragged up. He bit his lip in fear at the sight of Vernon's furious expression. Without a word, he was wrenched indoors and then slammed up against a wall.

"Boy," started Uncle Vernon in that kind voice that he only ever used when Harry was in a Hell of a lot of trouble. "Do you know what you've done?" Harry stayed silent until he was roughly shaken. "Answer me!"

"N-no s-sir," Harry stammered.

"N-no s-sir," Vernon mimicked. "Then I'll tell you, shall I? Let's see: you didn't finish your list of chores; you got in Petunia's way when she was trying to crush a miserable spider; you disobeyed me several times; you left the house without permission. Oh yes, and the last one: you burned the food!" Harry gulped. He was sure that last one was worse than the rest of them put together. He was shaken again. "I think you're getting a bit uppity, aren't you, freak? I think you might be forgetting your place." With that, he dropped Harry and drew back a foot. All Harry could do was curl up and hope that no bones were broken this time.

Two hours later, hurting and limping, Harry had finished tidying up after supper and was kicked out of the house with the command to finish the fence painting. Looking at how much was left to do, Harry despaired of getting it finished in time to get a night's sleep, particularly with him injured as he was. Reasoning that the sooner he started, the sooner he finished, he went to fetch the creosote cans and brush from the shed. He started painting, wincing every time a movement pulled on an aching spot. Luckily, he didn't think anything was broken and he had very few actually bleeding wounds. It was mostly bruises, nasty bruises that were already beginning to turn purple and black. Time passed slowly under the cold face of the moon.

"Hello Harry." Harry gasped and jumped, dropping the creosote brush. He looked wildly around for the speaker. Seeing no one, he wondered whether he had dropped into a waking dream for a moment. He _was_ tired. Deciding that must have been it – who would be talking to him at this time of night? – he bent down to pick up the dropped brush. "I'm here, Harry," the voice said again. This time Harry didn't drop his brush; it flicked instead, spraying the fence with drops.

"Where?" he asked tentatively. The voice chuckled.

"Why, right in front of your eyes. Look!" Harry did so and spotted a hole in the fence where a knot in the wood must have been. He cautiously put his eye to it and met a twinkling, bright blue orb. He pulled back with a gasp. Taking a step back, he was surprised to collide with something solid. Twisting around as fast as he could, he backed away until he touched the fence. In front of him was a tall figure with a white beard that touched his waist. On the mans' – and it was definitely a man – head was a pointed cap and on his nose was a pair of half-moon spectacles. Peering over those spectacles were two bright blue eyes that twinkled incessantly. Harry felt an odd desire to trust the man; he wondered why. Maybe it was because, bar the yellow and purple dress he seemed to be wearing and the pink colour of the hat, he looked quite like the Santa Claus who came to the school every year and chuckled jovially.

"Who-who are you?" Harry asked, a little fearfully.

"Me? Now, that's a good question. Indeed, who am I? Am I who I believe myself to be or am I someone else? Might I even be a figment of some dreamer's imagination and only believe myself to be real, or might I, myself, be dreaming?" Harry listened to this diatribe with bemusement. The man noticed that. "Oh, do you mean, what's my name?" Harry nodded. "Ah, I see. My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Harry thought that was a very long name. "And you are Harry James Potter, correct?" Harry's eyes went wide.

"How do you know my name?" Dumbledore, if he was who he said he was, smiled.

"That's not the only thing I know about you, little Harry." Harry puffed up a little in indignation. He might be scrawny, but he wasn't _little_. "I know that your parents were killed, murdered when you were a young child."

"Yes," agreed Harry dolefully. "By the Cereal Killer." Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes indeed. Voldemort, with the number of murders to his name, was truly a serial killer. I know that you were left here as a small child, to be raised by your only living family. I know that they do not treat you as a child's caretakers should. I know that you are miserable here. You are miserable, aren't you, Harry?" Harry looked away, nodding very slightly. He knew it was ungrateful, knew that his relatives could have dumped him at an orphanage or even on the streets, but some days he wished they had. Surely anything would be better than his current existence?

"Well, I have something that could solve it." From behind his back, the old man withdrew a very familiar object. It was his boat! Misshapen, true, so that that it formed a container rather than a boat, but instantly recognisable as the drawing he had worked on last night. He wondered how Dumbledore had got it. He reached for it, not wanting something so personal in a stranger's hands. The old man cautioned him with a finger, but then slowly brought the container within his reach. "Look," he commanded Harry, opening the top of the container very slightly. The whole piece of paper suddenly glowed and Harry peered inside.

He jerked back upon seeing the contents, looking up at Dumbledore with a question in his eyes. Inside had been glowing, yellow, pear-shaped objects that juddered about as though they were jumping beans.

"What are they?" he asked, curious. Dumbledore smiled.

"Lemon-drops."

"Lemon-drops?" Harry questioned. He had seen lemon-drops before, though Dudley had only ever asked for them once: they were too sour, he complained. It didn't stop him eating them, though. Harry was pretty sure they hadn't glowed or moved.

"Yes, lemon-drops. From the local sweet-shop." Harry eyed the man. These were supposed to solve all his problems? They were more likely to give him cavities. "They have been stewed in armadillo bile for seven days, then filled with a mixture of flobberworm guts, porcupine quills, a touch of freely-given unicorn blood and, the magical active ingredient, two tears from a phoenix. They were then baked in a magical frill-necked salamander's fire for three hours and then nursed by an ashwinder for nine days until they cooled." Harry's eyes had got larger and larger as the list went on. He hadn't even heard of half those things!

"Are you telling the truth?" he almost demanded. The old man gave him an enigmatic smile.

"Ah, Harry, the truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."* Harry made a face. That was very much something an adult would say: confusing and useless. He decided not to pursue it.

"So what are they for?" Dumbledore's smile turned more genuine.

"They are very magical for being so small. They make marvellous things happen. They can make dreams come true." Harry bit his lip as, without his permission, his mind took him to a dream he had always longed for: that he would be able to travel to Hogwarts, a place his father had told him he would one day get to. A magical castle up in the North in Scotland, a place filled with beauty and laughter. "Yes, Harry," said Dumbledore softly "they make dreams come true. So, you have a choice. Do you take this opportunity to step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure**, or do you wish to remain in the humdrum of your daily misery?" Harry looked at him carefully, wanting to see if it was a trick or a trap. Logic took over his longing fantasies, reminding him of his age and situation.

"How could I escape to Hogwarts?" he asked despairingly. "I'm just eight with no money, no friends, no family that doesn't hate me." Dumbledore's intense gaze pierced him.

"It is our choices Harry, which show what we truly are, far more than our abilities+." Torn, Harry glanced between the house, just visible as a grey shape in the darkness, and the bag. Ah Hell, what of it? It's not as though things could get worse. He reached for the bag and found his hand trapped in Dumbledore's bigger and deceptively strong one. "Just remember Harry, it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live++." He released Harry's hand and the paper bag with it. "Your head will only take you so far." He tapped the side of Harry's head and then the cloth over his heart. "Use your heart to guide you when you don't know what to do." Harry looked down and touched where the man had touched him. When he looked up a moment later, the man was gone.

OK, I admit it. I shamelessly ripped off JKRowling's epic Dumbledore lines for the conversation. Here's the list.

*Epic quote from Dumbledore in the Philosopher's Stone, chapter 17, I believe.

**Paraphrased quote from Half-blood Prince, chapter 3

+Quote from Chamber of Secrets, chapter 18

++Also slightly paraphrased quote from the Philosopher's Stone, chapter 12

And no, I didn't go searching through all the books to find these. HPLexicon rocks!


	3. Chapter 2: Greedy and Hypocritical

A/N Well, thank you very much for all the responses so far! Thank you especially to those who have dropped me a review. Follow and Favourite notifications make me feel warm inside, but reviews are so much more personal. Plus, I'm sure there are many things I could improve on, but I need pointers to know where I'm going wrong (and right, of course). Constructive criticism is always welcome. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the continuation.

Chapter 2

Harry did manage to finish his painting a few hours before daylight, but he was exhausted. One odd thing, however, was that all his bruises somehow healed themselves during the conversation with the strange man. Harry was thankful for it, though. Knowing he wouldn't manage to sneak the bag of magical lemon-drops into the house with Vernon watching him, he hid them in the shed, behind a few paint cans. It wasn't as though Vernon ever went there except on a Saturday to get the lawnmower out to do the lawn: one of the few house-hold jobs Harry didn't have to do. He then collapsed onto a pile of sacking at the back of the shed.

The sun coming through the shed window, straight into his eyes, woke him just in time to hear Uncle Vernon's call. He hurried inside and got to work on the breakfast with merely a clip around the ear.

The rest of the day passed normally. The only hitch was when he fell asleep on his desk during the library period. His teacher woke him up and he was obliged to make up a 'nail-biting' book he had been reading which kept him up at nights. He didn't tell the truth: what good would it do? After his first complaint where the teacher was, in effect, drummed out of town, he had tried twice more. The first time, he was called a liar. The second time he was called a liar once more, but the teacher had taken him to the Principal. The Principal had then called the Dursleys in. Harry shuddered at the memory of _that_ punishment. He would not be forgetting the experience anytime soon.

When he got home, he was once more given a list of chores. Luckily one of them took him outside. He went to get the bag out of the shed, checked the lemon-drops were still there – they were – and looked around for watchers before scurrying towards the house. Unfortunately, just as he was trying to get in the door, he ran into Dudley who was coming out. Dudley's eyes fixed themselves on the bag.

"What'cha got there, freak?" he demanded.

"Nothing, Dudley," Harry replied warily.

"Don't look like nothing. Give it here, then." Harry clutched the bag tighter, eyes darting round for an escape. Unfortunately, the fences and hedges were high enough around the back garden he couldn't get over them, nor could he get through. Dudley reached for the bag, faster than Harry would have thought. He grabbed the paper, but Harry wouldn't let go.

"It's mine, Dudley! Let go!" he shouted.

"S'not yours. Nothing here's yours," Dudley said cruelly. "If you won't give it, I'll tell Dad." Harry bit his lip, but even that threat wouldn't make him let go, instead it made him cling on harder. A tug of war ensued until, as could have been predicted, the bag couldn't take it anymore and the paper broke.

"No!" cried Harry as the lemon-drops showered the ground. He tried to gather them up, grovelling in the dirt, but they were surprisingly mobile, darting away from his fingers and burrowing in the ground. Harry sat back on his heels, his head hanging, downcast.

"What was that, freak?!" demanded Dudley, his tone slightly fearful and angry because of it. Harry didn't answer. Dudley kicked him and a wave of anger swept through him. Too much! It was too much. The Dursleys always took away everything good he ever had. Growling ferally, Harry, uncharacteristically, jumped up at Dudley, punching every inch he could reach. Dudley seemed startled, but then responded with equal anger. He used his superior weight and size, as well as the fact he wasn't exhausted from a night spent awake, to pin Harry and beat him up. Finally, after much struggling and getting nowhere, Harry lay limp, the anger gone and replaced with pain. Satisfied the freak had been taught his place, Dudley got up, spat at Harry's prone form, kicked him once more for good measure and then stomped off back to the house. "I'm telling Dad you've been playing with freaky things and hurt me when I told you to stop!" he shouted back, a smug tone in his voice.

Harry knew he should get up and beg Dudley not to tell: he was pretty sure his punishment would be far worse than last night if Dudley complained, as he was sure to, but he couldn't move. The disappearance of hope and anger both was enough to numb him until he couldn't care about anything.

Sure enough, when Vernon came home, there was an almighty backlash for his temerity to actually fight back for once. The beating seemed to go on and on. Harry actually started fearing for his life. Vernon just wasn't stopping, even though Harry was pretty sure he had broken something already. Harry's saving grace came in the form of Petunia's voice drifting into the house.

"Vernon, Vernon! Come here! You won't believe this!" Vernon grunted and sneered at Harry, then turned around to go to his wife. Harry pulled himself painfully off the ground with the help of the banisters and limped out to see what they were looking at. Almost absent-mindedly he wiped at the blood trickling down his face with the sleeve of his clothes.

When he got to the kitchen doorstep, his eyes went wide in shock and he leaned against the doorway to keep him standing up. On the top-most branch of the tree nearest where the lemon-drops had been spilled, a huge fruit was growing. Looking at it, he thought it might be a peach. It was the size of a football and was still growing under their very eyes.

"Im-impossible," stammered Vernon, his and Petunia's eyes fixated on the giant fruit. "The most that tree's ever borne has been the odd blossom or two which just withered. Nothing more!" Despite his protests, the fruit was most definitely there. Within a few minutes it had grown heavy enough that the tree was no longer able to support its weight. The wood groaned, but didn't snap, as it bent enough to rest the peach on the ground. And yet, it still grew!

Finally, it stopped getting visibly bigger when it was as big as the house, no, slightly bigger, and the fences around the garden were barely able to contain it. Released from their fixation, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia shared an odd glance, then as one they turned to look at Harry. Harry started backing away from the intense gaze, sure it meant nothing good. Vernon took a threatening step forwards.

"Boy, what have you done?" He asked in a hissing whisper. Harry realised he didn't want to catch the attention of the neighbours, though they had surely noticed the appearance of a huge peach in the backyard of a cookie-cutter house.

"I-I," Harry stammered, shaking his head desperately. He was sure any more violence would kill him at this point. "I-I d-di-didn't d-do-"

"No lies, boy! I know you did something!" Vernon stomped towards Harry who tried to run, but tripped over because one of his legs wasn't working properly. His uncle loomed threateningly above him, but was checked by Petunia's voice.

"Hang on, Vernon," she said, contemplatively. Vernon turned to her and Harry breathed. "I don't think there's ever been a peach as big as this before." Vernon's piggy eyes lit up with avarice as he caught onto what Petunia was saying.

"People would come from all over to see it, wouldn't they," he mused out loud. They shared another glance. This time Harry could easily decipher it: it was a look of shared greed and understanding.

"Boy, go away," Petunia said, almost absent-mindedly. When Harry didn't move, not sure what she meant, she turned to him, her expression impatient. "Get inside and cook dinner," she snapped. Harry nodded and once more stood, wincing at every movement. He cooked, they ate and he was sent to his cupboard without any supper as further punishment for fighting with Dudley.

He massaged his stomach that felt as though wolves were tearing at it. He had missed lunch both that day and the day before because Dudley had snatched it. In addition, he hadn't been allowed breakfast that morning or dinner the previous night because of the creosote job. As a result, he hadn't eaten in 36 hours and was fast approaching his limit of being able to endure without collapsing.

The next day was Saturday and no ordinary Saturday. He was given scraps at breakfast, thank goodness, but then was set to work the rest of the day cooking cakes, making sandwiches and mixing drinks to supply those outside. Vernon was standing at the garden gate, charging people to come in to look at the enormous peach while Petunia kept the tables supplied with the refreshments Harry made and socialised with the guests. Dudley was making a nuisance of himself, as usual, but had been bribed with his favourite foods and a new top twenty cassette tape to keep him out of the way. He played with his friends in the backyard and annoyed the guests, but at least he stayed out of the kitchen for the most part.

Harry managed to snaffle a few bits of food while he was cooking, but the starving boy was thwarted most of the time by Petunia. She had a horrible habit of coming in just as he was putting something to his mouth or balancing whatever he was holding so he had a hand free to eat with.

The day was long, but it ended eventually. Harry leaned against a counter, the only thing keeping him upright after he had done the usual supper preparation and tidy up. He longed to be sent to his cupboard, but in vain. Vernon, pleased from the day's intake, 'magnanimously' allowed him to pick the chicken skeleton from the roast and chew the single leftover potato and the few extra carrots. He then sent the exhausted boy out with a brush and bin to clear up the mess all the people had made.

"And don't go near our peach," Petunia warned Harry shrilly as he left the room. Harry got out the door, but then collapsed against the wall, almost too tired to eat the bits of food he had managed to salvage. It wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough to even begin to fill his stomach, let alone make up for the missed meals. Harry found himself looking involuntarily at the huge fruit covering most of the lawn, his mouth watering. Almost violently, he jerked his gaze away and started collecting the rubbish and brushing off the paving slabs. At this point, he needed to stay under the Dursleys' radar and avoid injury as much as possible. While he might not like his life, he certainly wasn't ready to leave it in a permanent manner, particularly not at the hands of his hateful and hated relatives.

Just as he was picking up a discarded plastic cup, he saw something move. It was one of those lemon-drop things! Harry tried to grab it but it was too quick. It led him on a dance around the lawn and then finally eluded him completely. The brief surge of hope died down completely leaving Harry feeling empty in its wake. Looking around where he was, he realised he had come right next to the peach by accident. Biting his lip, Harry tried not to imagine the punishment he would get if one of his relatives came out at that moment.

Logically, the best course of action at this point would be to move to the other side of the garden and carry on with his job. Unfortunately, logic wasn't playing much part in Harry's decision making at this point. A much baser organ had taken over. Enraptured by the glorious scent of the fruit, Harry's stomach was directing his hands to sink into the firm flesh of the peach and pull out a glob of orange dessert. Harry brought it to his lips as if under a spell and sank his teeth in. Unbeknownst to him, that lemon-drop he had chased over the garden had sunk itself into just that spot. His mouthful glowed yellowy-green for a moment and then disappeared down his throat.

Harry almost moaned. He had never tasted anything quite so delicious. The peach was firm enough to be chewed, but with so much liquid it ran down his throat and soothed the insides of his digestion system. When the flesh had made its way down his throat, it settled in his stomach in a way that made him feel full, but not so heavily it made him feel ill, considering his recent bout of starvation.

So wrapped with the sensations of what he was eating, Harry didn't realise that the magic of the lemon-drop was healing his body and even undoing some of the damage he had received from long term malnutrition. Where Harry had dug out a handful of fruit, a hole was deepening and glowing bright yellow. He only noticed that when he had completely consumed the fruit and was licking his fingers clean. Curious, and not even sparing a thought for his relatives, Harry stuck his head in the hole. He realised it was just the right size for a boy like him to crawl in, so that's what he did.

The tunnel was long, soft and sticky. Finally he reached the end: a hole in something hard which had to be the stone, the seed casing. Voices were coming through the hole, but his view was obscured by something. The voices seemed somewhat angry, though muffled. Harry leant towards the hole, hoping to hear more clearly, but underestimated how slippery his handhold was. He went tumbling, head over heels through the thin hole-covering and down into the middle of the hollow stone.

Rubbing his head and briefly distracted by the fact that nothing else hurt, Harry looked up and saw figures around him. The next thing he noticed was that the figures weren't human. Following upon the heels of that realisation, he discovered that figures were actually bugs, huge bugs. Terrified, he scrambled backwards like a crab until he hit the wall of the stone. Raising his shaking arms in front of his head, he made a plea in desperate tones.

"Please don't eat me!" he cried out, his voice high and thin.

A/N OK, challenge for you all. Can you guess who each of the bugs will be? They will all be well-known characters, most from Hogwarts, so no one like Rufus Scrimangeour or that guy Luna married who I can never remember the name of.


	4. Chapter 3: A Bug's Life

"_Please don't eat me!" Harry cried, his voice high and thin._

There was silence and then a chuckle broke the suspense.

"Eat you? Eat you, you dunderhead? Why ever would you think that?" Harry lowered his arms slowly, hearing no movements that suggested he was about to be someone's meal. The bugs in front of him looked, well, he wasn't sure how he knew this, but amused seemed to be the best description.

"It's just, you're, well, bugs," he said, almost apologetically. There were a few smiles.

"Indeed we are, dear," a motherly voice said. "I happen to be a ladybird, so I eat aphids. You don't look much like an aphid, child." Harry looked and saw the speaker was indeed a ladybird, though one almost double his height with red hair, a smart but functional dress and red handbag. She smiled at him and he smiled shyly back.

"Yeah and I eat dirt. I don't even have teeth." This came from the earthworm lying slightly coiled on the floor.

"I'm a vegetarian," said the grasshopper, curtsying to him. Harry found that very strange. "I like eating all the different types of grass, though digitalis is my favourite because-"She was interrupted and Harry couldn't help feeling slightly glad about that.

"I, on the other hand, am quite happy to eat flesh. The fresher the better in my opinion." The cruel looking creature leaned down towards him and Harry shuffled away, fearful once more. Suddenly, the centipede was whacked on the back of the head by one of the spider's long legs.

"Don't scare him," the spider reprimanded. Turning his attention back to Harry. "No one here will eat you. We all have reason to be grateful to you."

"Yeah," said the earthworm. "You stopped me from getting eaten by a bird when Petunia had dug up my home."

"You helped me get out the window when I was trapped by that awful glass inside the house. Without you, I would have been squashed by someone, sooner or later," said the ladybird.

"You distracted that horrible cousin of yours when he was about to pull off one of my long legs," recounted the grasshopper.

"Well, you didn't do much for me," huffed the centipede. "I was fine by myself." The other bugs all looked at him. "What?" he asked, trying to stare each of them in the eye, all at once. "OK, fine. You took me outside when I'd managed to come in with the mud one rainy day. Like I said, I had it covered."

"I believe you recall what you did for me, unless you have the memory of a forgetful goldfish," the spider said sardonically. Harry nodded, not quite sure if he should feel insulted.

"Now come on, child. It can't be comfortable sitting down there," the ladybird fussed. She helped Harry stand up and brush himself down. He felt a bit awkward: no one had acted like that around him since his parents had died.

"So, what's your name, little biped," demanded the centipede.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"It's nice to meet you, Harry," said the ladybird with a smile. "I'm Mrs Molly Ladybird." One by one the others all introduced themselves as well.

"I'm Miss Hermione Grasshopper."

"Mr Draco Centipede. I'm named after a dragon, don't you know. Mother always said I was brave."

"Yes, yes," the spider broke in testily. "And I'm sure you shoot fire out of your nostrils, too. My name is Mr Severus Spider."

"Hey, that's alliteration," interjected Hermione. "That's when there are two or more words with the same letter at the beginning following each other. It's also sibilance. That's because of the 'sss' sound, see?"

"Oh belt up, grasshopper," said Draco impatiently. "No one cares." Hermione puffed up in indignation and faced up to Draco. The latter seemed perfectly willing to start a fight. Then Severus got in the way, using two legs to hold each apart, two to whack each on the head and the other four to balance.

"I'm Neville Earthworm," said a small voice from beside Harry's ear. "Please try not to tread on me. That happened to a friend of mine. He squished so much he became a flatworm. Never was the same afterwards."

"Oh dear," Harry said, sympathetically. He would be very upset if that happened to a friend of his, particularly because he'd never had one. Taking the chance to look around the room he was in, he realised he didn't know where the light was coming from. His question was answered a moment later as he looked up and saw a huge glow-worm sitting in a contraption that looked as though it was made out of a big film canister for a camera. "Mr Earthworm," he asked tentatively.

"Just call me Neville, Harry."

"OK, Neville, who's that up there?" He waved in the direction of the glow-worm, remembering a teacher who had told him it was rude to point. Neville shrugged, at least, that's what Harry thought he was doing.

"Don't know. We only got here a bit before you did. Maybe one of the others knows." Harry looked up at the ladybird in question. She shook her head.

"Sorry, Harry-dear." Harry wandered over to where Hermione, Draco and Severus were still in an argument.

"Excuse me," he asked timidly. No one heard. "Excuse me," he said a little louder. Still no one took any notice. "Excuse me!" he shouted finally.

"What?!" Severus demanded as he whipped round, his legs a blur as he moved. Startled by the speed, Harry backed away and tripped over something lying on the floor. The harsh expression on Severus' face faded and he moved slowly towards Harry. "Child, you don't need to fear me or any of the others in this room," he said solemnly. Harry looked at his feet.

"I know, it's just, I don't know. I wasn't expecting it. That's all." He seemed a little embarrassed. Severus reached a front leg out to Harry like a hand and Harry took it gratefully.

"Now, you wanted to say something, did you?" asked Severus, his tone still gentle.

"Yeah, I was just wondering what the glow worm was called." He shrugged. "Nothing important."

"Doesn't matter," said Hermione. "It's easy enough to find out. Hey, Glow-worm, what's your name?" she shouted up to the insect.

"What's that? Where's your brain? Well, I never! The cheek!" The glow-worm quickly took offence and seemed ready to have a long sulk. Draco snatched up a curl of metal which looked as though it came from the inside of a giant pencil-sharpener.

"No, you old bat, what's your name?!" he shouted.

"Oh. Well you should have said so in the first place! I am called Trelawney Glow-worm, thank you very much."

"I'm Harry," shouted up Harry.

"Nice to meet you, Harry, now, I must return to my contemplations or my glow will start to fade."

"More like she wants to return to that edition of Buff Bugs she's got hidden there," muttered Draco to Harry. Harry didn't really know what he was talking about so just smiled and nodded.

Any further conversation was discouraged when sounds happening outside filtered in through the tunnel.

"Boy! Where are you?" Vernon's voice was then joined by Petunia's shrill tones.

"Get here! Now!"

"Oh no!" shouted a bug. It might have been Molly. "They'll get the spray out!"

"And the boot!"

"And the magazine!"

"And the spade!" Even Trelawney was affected, her light becoming intermittent in her fear.

"You better not be near our peach! If you're not here by the time I count to five, I'll give you a licking you'll never forget!" Vernon boomed. Harry shivered but started shakily heading towards the entrance. He was stopped by two long legs around his middle and two shorter ones on each shoulder.

"Here now, where do you think you're going?" Harry looked around to see Hermione on one shoulder, Molly on the other and Severus the one around his waist and also the one who had spoken.

"They-I-need-"He gestured helplessly in the direction of his Aunt and Uncle's voices.

"No you don't. We're with you, come shovel or boot," said Hermione firmly. Molly just gave him a stern, but loving, motherly Look. Harry could barely recognise it: the last time he had had anything like that was before his parents died. Harry went and sat down with the bugs, but he couldn't stop worrying. He was sure the Dursleys would find him and kill his new friends.

He squirmed in his seat, bit his lip and wished with all his might he, the insects and the peach could be somewhere else, anywhere else. He wished and wished, not really expecting anything to happen. The next thing he knew, the peach was rocking back and forth, violently shuddering. Clinging onto the nearest available bug – Molly – Harry wondered fearfully what the Dursleys were doing. Surely they didn't want to damage the peach?

Suddenly, Harry and everyone else were shoved to the floor by an irresistible force. Things tumbled down and Trelawney's light went out. It was all confusion and then the force let go. Next, Harry drifted up into the air. He flailed around, panicked, yet excited, as he couldn't feel anything. He was flying! Soon after that came a series of nasty jolts that had him whacking into the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the other bugs, everything else that also seemed to be floating in the air, all until he had no idea which way was up and which was down. Finally, with an almighty CRASH, they were still.

What Harry didn't know, was that his fervent wish had set in motion events which would be life-changing for more than just him and his bugs. His accidental magic had reacted to the emotionally charged situation and had interpreted his wish as best it could. Not able to apparate such a large object, it had done the next best thing. Under Petunia and Vernon's disbelieving eyes, the peach had rocked violently to and fro until it detached itself from the tree. After that it had shot almost directly up in the air. When the momentum of the veritable sling-shot had run out, the peach had curved in the air and gone shooting towards the ground.

All looked as though the gigantic fruit would become a mere splat on the ground, but the magic kicked in again, desiring to keep its master safe. Instead, the peach had bounced, miraculously missing houses and late evening dog-walkers. It had tumbled and rolled, jumped and flew over the earth, picking up various things such as a line of fence posts that stuck in its side and a wheelbarrow that fell off a bit later. Finally, reaching the coast, it teetered for a moment on the edge of a cliff, then tipped past its balance point, dropping into the ocean below.

All was dark. All was still. All was heavy. Harry, slightly stunned from the various impacts over the past few minutes, tried to shove the heavy thing off his chest. It giggled.

"Hey, don't tickle me," said a voice, doleful now it wasn't laughing.

"Neville?" Harry asked.

"That's me. At least, I don't think I've lost anything," the weight on his chest replied, shifting around to, presumably, check everything was in working order.

"Someone catch the millipede that whacked me?" Draco's groggy voice asked.

"Ooh, my head," groaned Molly. "What happened?" No one answered: no one could answer.

"I'm going out to take a look," said Draco amid rustling.

"If you get squashed by Vernon or Petunia, don't come crying to me," Severus's sardonic tones ventured.

"Oh shut up, Spider," Draco grouched. There was the sound of chewing, slurping and swallowing, then a shaft of light pierced the gloom. It was so bright Harry had to cover his eyes for a moment. "Hey, you guys, come up here!" Draco didn't sound concerned, more excited, so they all headed towards the hole he had made. Severus carried Harry as it wasn't easy to get to it and Molly carried Neville.

They emerged onto the top of the peach, the stem sticking out behind them. The light was from the moon, a clear, full moon. It lit up the landscape, revealing the cliff and the acres of water surrounding them.

"Wow," Harry breathed. It was so beautiful. Best of all, there were no Dursleys, or indeed, anyone else he knew. "Where are we?" He looked around, but they all shrugged, their faces equally awestruck.

"What are you all looking at?" asked the blind – or near enough – earthworm plaintively. No one answered for a moment. Finally, Harry ventured a description which summed up the feeling in all of them perfectly.

"Freedom."


	5. Chapter 4: A Rock and a Hard Place

A/N Wow, time's gone past so quickly! I only just realised this morning that I haven't updated for five days. So, the characters have been revealed. What do you think of my choices? Do you think I've kept them in character (as much as they can be, considering the different circumstances) or not? The first eight chapters have been beta'd (this is going to be thirteen chapters long, including the prologue and epilogue) but the person who beta'd them was only looking at grammar and spelling. She has never read The Giant Peach and only read Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. As a result, I will have to rely on you, my readers, to tell me if I've got their characters completely wrong.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

The next morning dawned bright with a cloudless sky. The seven inhabitants of the giant peach discovered, through a rather potentially disastrous accident, that a line of fence posts had stuck in the side of the peach in a way that formed a gentle spiral, creating a platform for them to stand and sit on. The land was not the same as it had been the night before and they were further out. Severus ventured a hypothesis that they were in the grip of a slow current that went out to sea, but at an angle. Either that or tides, he said authoritatively.

This, of course, sparked off an argument with Draco who challenged how Severus could know anything like that when he had been stuck in the Dursleys' house and garden all his life. The debate had turned nasty and it looked at one point as if one or the other would take a nose-dive off their transport. It was then that Molly stepped in and lectured them like recalcitrant children. She had told them in no uncertain terms that if they were going to behave like infants, she would put them in time-out like babes. They subsided from the force of her personality.

In the aftermath of the argument, Harry had decided to stay outside, away from the inside where both insects had chosen to go and sulk. His experience with arguments was not good: he usually ended up being the scapegoat for frustrated anger. He was still sitting there when he saw an odd phenomenon. In front of him, in the open sea, a few rocks were appearing and disappearing. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if tiredness had got to them or something. It seemed not as the rocks continued to do their odd behaviour. He realised a little later that, actually, the rocks weren't appearing in the same place each time and, more worrying, that they were getting closer.

A few minutes later they were much closer and much more defined. He noticed a pattern. First, one large, oddly shaped rock would rise out of the water a little. Next, it would be followed by a series of other rocks, these much more rounded and, he thought, straining his eyes, almost hooped.

With a sinking feeling, Harry remembered a time the Dursleys had gone to Scotland. He had been left with Mrs Figg, as usual, but Dudley had come back with loads of stories which he loved to tease Harry with. One of his favourites had been about 'old Nessie'. He had gleefully recounted a story he had been told about a person who got eaten by the Loch Ness Monster. Apparently, a man had been sailing in a small boat in the early morning. He had seen hoops come towards him and had tried to get back to shore, but it was too late! Nessie had wrapped her coils around him and crushed his boat to pieces, picking him up out of the remains. While Harry had challenged it at the time – how, if the man had died, would they know what had happened? – but now, faced with a strange event, he wondered whether there was any truth to it.

Biting his lip, he decided that he would call for someone whose opinion he trusted. While he didn't trust many adults, his new friends weren't exactly adults. He moved cautiously towards the hole, keeping an eye on the odd rocks.

"Severus," he called down softly. "Mr Spider, could you come up here please?"

"I'm coming, child," Severus replied, his voice slightly grumpy, but then that was hardly different than normal. Harry stood back as the enormous spider crawled out of the hole, easily climbing the walls. "What is it?"

"Um…." Harry wasn't sure where to start.

"Well? Spit it out boy!" Severus said testily. Harry flinched at the word and the tone. Severus sighed. "I don't mean it like that, Harry. Just tell me what's the problem."

"It's…. Those rocks," he pointed at them "keep appearing and disappearing in different places. They're getting closer and," he gulped "I was wondering…um…I was wondering if it was a Loch Ness Monster?" He cringed, half-expecting a blow for insolence or lies or whatever else he was normally punished for when he said anything Vernon or Petunia didn't like. Severus frowned and used one leg to stroke his chin thoughtfully.

"I've heard that there are creatures called Sea Serpents. If I recall correctly, they eat fish mainly, but have been known to eat the odd sailor when they have an opportunity. Hopefully, if this is a Sea Serpent, it's just curious and so will leave us alone if we don't make this look like a tasty prospect." Harry nodded, grateful Severus hadn't just scoffed at his idea.

"So, should we go back inside?" he asked. Severus nodded.

"That might be best. The others ought to be warned and someone should keep an eye on the strange rocks to see if they turn into anything." The warning was given. Hermione seemed torn between fear and excitement: fear because she knew how dangerous Sea Serpents could be – apparently one of her cousin's uncle's aunt's husbands had known someone who had seen someone being eaten, or something like that – and excited because she had never seen one before. Neville, predictably, seemed convinced they would be consumed. Molly went all mother-hen on them, wondering out loud whether it would do any good to go and bash the monster on its nose with her handbag. Draco wanted to go out and wrestle with the Sea Serpent, boasting that he had once tied a Sea Serpent up in knots with three hands tied behind his back. What Trelawney would have thought none of them knew: after trying four times to get the message across and failing, they gave up and just resolved to make sure she didn't go outside. They did want to keep their light, after all.

It was a Sea Serpent, they discovered after watching for a while from the protection of the tunnel. It got right close to the peach and then lifted a good portion of its body out of the water. It was big and managed to just about reach the top of the peach. It sniffed around, prodded the peach a few times. Just as they thought it had lost interest, it obviously caught a whiff of the inside of the peach as it returned to sniffing with renewed vigour. Having no luck, it then lowered its head and everyone breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it had gone.

Too soon, they found out when they were almost all knocked head over heels by a sharp push from one side. There was another push in a similar place. These became regular and they stopped getting caught off guard by them. The next concern was why the Serpent was pushing them. Amid the frantic questions from Neville about what was happening and, they looked out of the hole, slightly fearfully, and their eyes widened in horror as they took in the picture.

They were being pushed towards land, but not just any land. They were heading towards a cliff. That wouldn't be so bad, if not for the wickedly jagged rocks lining the bottom of the cliff. Hermione summed it up in a bewildered tone of voice.

"It's… it's herding us. It's herding us towards those rocks." She gasped. "It's going to smash us on the rocks and eat whatever is left from the crash!"

The next couple of hours were both nerve-wracking and incredibly boring. They were unable to settle to anything because of the fear and the constant reminder of the Sea Serpent's nudges and they couldn't maintain the highly strung adrenaline rush that imminent danger brought. The Serpent seemed to be fighting slightly against whatever current had taken them out to sea in the first place, so progress was slow. When the hopeful thought was voiced, however, that maybe the current would mean they wouldn't hit the rocks hard enough to damage, Neville piped up with a pessimistic view and then Severus backed it up. Apparently, rocks in the water usually had unpredictable currents around them. Harry wasn't quite sure which would be worse: the waiting, knowing that they would die, or the actual crash.

It was while he was lying half in and half out of the hole – trying to keep out of view of the Sea Serpent, but also unable to sit inside properly out of fear of the unknown – that the visitor arrived. The first Harry knew of it was when an annoying buzzing noise caused him to shake his head to try and stop it. The buzzing didn't stop, indeed, it even got louder. Harry looked wildly around to try to see the insect. Seeing nothing, he frowned. The buzzing changed tone: it almost seemed amused, if buzzing could ever be described as that.

Harry looked around again, but saw nothing. Something touched him on the back of his head and he tried to slap it, hitting nothing but himself. After that, the feather-light touches came all over the parts of his body out of the hole. For some reason, whatever it was didn't seem to want to go into the peach. Finally, tiring of the search, Harry lay back down and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the annoying sensations.

Whatever it was didn't take kindly to the game being stopped by such methods and started pulling more than touching, growing bolder and moving closer to his face each time. Eventually, the creature touched near his hand and, with quick reflexes, he grabbed it. Opening his eyes, Harry looked at what he had captured, almost opening his hand from shock. He had been expecting some really annoying insect. What was in his hand was certainly not an insect.

The struggling creature had insect-like wings, that was true. They were filmy and shone rainbow colours in the sun, much like a dragon-fly's wings. That was where the resemblance ended. The creature had a head like a human's, arms like a human's, legs like a human's and even wore some sort of material wrapped around its torso like a human would. His eyes wide, Harry matched what the annoyance looked like to some of the books he had seen in the school library of fairies. His mind racing, he wondered what other 'mythical' creatures could be real if fairies existed.

A sharp pain to his hand made him loosen his hand from surprise. It didn't really hurt, but when Harry looked down, he saw a spot of blood forming. The fairy hovered in front of his face and bared its teeth at him. He guessed it had bitten him. Maybe he had been holding it too tightly or maybe it just wanted to get free. He shrugged: he could easily understand those desires. The fairy didn't seem to get the reaction it had expected from Harry as it stopped baring its teeth and adopted a more thoughtful position, its head cocked on one side. Harry unconsciously copied it.

"You fun for human," the fairy said, its voice high and thin. Harry's eyebrows rose. He hadn't expected it to be able to speak, for some reason. Maybe it was because in that story they had once read in Year 2, Peter Pan, he thought, the fairy could only speak in bell sounds. "What you called?"

"Harry Potter," Harry answered. "What's your name?" The fairy made an odd combination of sounds that apparently was its name. Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can say that." The fairy shrugged as if it was no matter. There was silence for a few moments and the fairy flitted around a bit.

"You in bit of trouble," the fairy said conversationally. "Big snake eaty up quick quick," it said, gleefully, Harry thought.

"I don't suppose you know any way of avoiding both rocks and Sea Serpent?" Harry asked almost listlessly. He didn't really hold out any hope. The fairy did a few somersaults and then backflips in the air. Harry sighed.

"Can eaty peach?" the fairy asked. Harry frowned. He wasn't quite sure what it meant.

"Do you mean can we eat the peach, or can you eat the peach?"

"Me, me!" the fairy said eagerly, thrusting out its hands. Harry considered it. While the starved child in him recoiled at sharing food - who knew when he would get it next? – the more rational part of him considered that the peach was huge: it would take hundreds eating it to make any dent, and the fairy was tiny, anyway. He shrugged again and then dug out a small glob of it.

The fairy had terrible table manners, ripping into the fruit as if starving. It devoured the comparatively large lump of peach flesh and was soon licking its fingers.

"Good! Good! More?" Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise at its appetite. He gave it another glob, expecting it to eat it on the spot. Instead, it zoomed off back towards the cliffs which, Harry realised with horror, forgetting all about his strange visitor for a moment, were much closer than they had been even half an hour ago. Something had changed. They were moving faster than before: each of the Sea Serpent's nudges was having more effect.

Harry climbed down the rope ladder Severus had woven to help him and went to wake the spider himself.

"Severus, Severus!" he said urgently, shaking the spider's shoulder.

"What, brat?" Severus asked snappishly.

"We've sped up! We're getting closer to the shore faster! What'll we do?" Severus sighed and stood up. They moved back to the top of the peach and looked out.

"The current must have changed, or maybe we've been caught in a new one that draws us towards the shore," Severus mused.

"But what can we do?" asked Harry. Severus snorted.

"We can do as much now as we could do hours ago." Looking down at Harry who was now fighting back tears, Severus felt a tug at his heart. He wrapped a couple of arms around the small boy. "Maybe it won't be as bad as we think," he tried to console. "Maybe we won't crash very hard and will be able to climb out onto the rocks. I could then probably climb up to the top of the cliff and spin a thread down to pull you all up." Harry looked up at him.

"Do you…do you really think so?" he asked hopefully.

"Very unlikely." Severus almost bit off his tongue as it moved without permission. "But possible," he quickly continued. Harry sighed and looked down.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" He said miserably. "At least it's in freedom, though, don't you think?" Severus sensed it was a rhetorical question and stayed silent. They remained so for a while, every moment getting closer and closer to their doom.

Suddenly, there was the sound of buzzing again. Harry looked up to try to find the fairy and suddenly found Severus had shot out a piece of sticky web with admirable accuracy. Caught in the threads was a fairy, but not the one Harry had spoken to earlier. Belatedly, he realised he hadn't mentioned the visit to Severus.

"Severus, please don't eat it, it's a friend, I think?" He finished rather uncertainly, unsure as to the motives of this new fairy. "Are you?" he asked the fairy. It drew itself up regally and Harry thought with amused surprise that it was trying to look down its nose at him.

"Make deal. Not friend, not enemy." The fairy said and Harry detected a difference between this fairy and the one before. If forced to choose, he would probably say this one was female and the other was male.

"Deal?" Harry inquired curiously.

"You got trouble. Fairies help for payment."

"Harry," murmured Severus "if there is any chance of survival, the others might like to be in on this." Harry nodded and Severus quickly abseiled into the hole on his thread, returning within moments with the other insects, bar Trelawney who didn't even know about the danger yet due to her deafness. They were quickly brought up to speed and all settled down on the ground, Harry facing the now-released fairy.

"I fairy Queen," the fairy said imperiously. "You Potter human. Stopped evil human damage fairy places." Harry frowned in confusion.

"I don't know what you mean. Maybe I'm not the one you're thinking of. There've got to be loads of Harry Potters around." The fairy shook her head and flew up to touch the odd, lightning-shaped scar that had been on his forehead ever since the Dursleys.

"You have scar. You Harry Potter. I make deal with you." Deciding to put it aside for now – they had some far more pressing concerns, after all – Harry held his hands out slightly.

"OK, so what would this deal be?"

"You in trouble. Fairies help." From Draco came a snort.

"You? Help? A little speck like you? What could you do?" he asked derisively. The fairy Queen seemed to puff up in anger and the buzzing noise rose. While he had been very rude, Harry thought Draco did have a bit of a point. What help could these little fairies be against a Sea Serpent? A moment later, a memory hit him. He remembered a story he had read at the urging of one teacher: 'The Twits' by Roald Dahl.* During the story, one of the characters had tied so many floating balloons to another character that she was lifted into the air. The fairies were small, but he wondered if enough would be able to lift the huge fruit. That would save them from the Sea Serpent, sure enough! He tuned back into the argument to find the fairy Queen on the verge of leaving in a huff.

"Wait!" he said desperately. "We do need your help, and I really believe you can." Slightly placated, the fairy settled a little. "Are there many of you?" She nodded. Harry saw the looks of incomprehension on the faces of his friends. "How much could you all lift together when flying?"

"Heavy, heavy," she answered emphatically. Harry saw a look of dawning understanding on Severus' and Hermione's faces.

"Could you, perhaps, lift this peach with all of us on it?" Everyone quickly grasped his idea, if they hadn't already, and held their breaths while waiting on the answer.

"Yes, yes. Easy, easy." Harry couldn't have stopped the beaming smile from breaking out on his face if his life depended on it.

"Great! So, in return for lifting us and carrying us to Hogwarts, you will…what do you want?"

"Peach 'licious. Want more. Good for fairy. Want to see world too. Never see outside home territory. Also, help out boy saved fairies from bad human."

"Right, so you will carry us to safety and in return you can eat the peach and get to see the world in our travels. Agreed?"

"Fairy pact." The Queen spat on her hand and held it out. Harry licked his index finger a little and held it out. They shook hands, well, finger and hand. The Queen then shot up in the air and disappeared.

"She's probably gone to get the other fairies," Hermione said. "I've read they can live in colonies that number up to ten thousand individual, but mostly only live with half that many." Draco turned to her.

"How the hell do you know so much?" Hermione blushed a bright shade of green.

"I haven't lived in actual grass for long. I used to be kept in a box by this human. It was quite nice, especially when he left books near the books where I could see them through the clear walls." While they were talking, Harry looked out to the rocks and gasped.

"What is it, dear?" asked Molly. She then saw what he was looking at. "Oh, oh my. I do hope that fairy comes back quickly," she said softly.

Time slipped away like water and still the fairy Queen didn't come. They moved ever closer to the rocks, faster and faster every moment, now only a stone's throw away from the first jagged spike.

*Yes, I am aware of the irony. Let's say that in this story, Dahl didn't write 'James and the Giant Peach' or at least Harry has never heard of it.


	6. Chapter 5: Fly, Josephine

A/N I think I'll make it a regular thing now, updating on Saturdays. If I don't update on a Saturday, it's probably because I've forgotten or am busy doing other things. Feel free to remind me to post. Thank you for your feedback so far.

Enjoy!

Chapter 5: Fly, Josephine in my Flying Machine

They waited for the fairy Queen to come back. Waited and waited, all the time darting glances at the doom quickly approaching them. Finally, just as they were giving up, resigning themselves to death, she arrived. Behind her was a shimmering cloud that turned out to be myriads of fairies. Everyone on the peach hooted and whooped in relief.

Next came the logistics of how to get them lifting the peach. They had already decided to give the fairies strands of Severus' rope and get them to tie themselves to the peach stalk, but when they tried doing it, the Serpent thwarted them, spitting water almost lazily every time the fairies approached the peach to take the web strands. If they got wet, the fairies wouldn't be able to fly because their wings would stick and become too heavy. As a result, they kept diving and then pulling up when stopped by the water blasts.

"It's useless!" moaned Neville.

"We're never going to get these things to the fairies," agreed Draco.

"Such rudeness!" said Molly, reproachfully, glaring at the serpent. It took no notice. Harry bit his lip and frowned as he thought.

"Hold on, I have an idea." They all turned to him expectantly. "Who here can fly?"

"I can," said Hermione and Molly simultaneously. Harry nodded.

"Good. You two get up in the air and take Severus' threads to the fairies. Severus, you need to get moving on the thread-making. Draco, we need you to occupy your six hands with tying the ends of the threads to the peach stalk."

"And me?" asked Neville hopefully. "What can I do?"

"See if you can distract the Serpent." Neville drooped.

"Oh. Bait." He didn't sound very enthused.

"Well, yes, but it's very important, Neville. Our lives are at stake!" He perked up a bit. "Right, guys. Let's get going. I'll keep a watch out on things."

And so they worked. The procedure went very efficiently: the insects all doing their jobs and Harry calling out warnings about water jets or potential collisions. Neville did his best to wiggle and squirm as only a worm can, holding the Serpent's attention much of the time.

When a little more than half the fairies were attached, the peach started to lift out of the water, none too soon as the peach was already being pierced by the first few rocks. Suddenly, the lazy behaviour of the Serpent, seeing its prey almost get away, changed. Harry called out a warning and all the insects turned to see the Serpent rear up in the water, take in a massive amount of water and prepare to fire. Knowing that if everything got drenched, there would be no hope, Mrs Molly Ladybird showed extraordinary courage.

She zoomed forwards as fast as she possible could towards the Serpent. Upon reaching it, she pulled back her handbag and whacked it full across the nose. The Serpent released its water load harmlessly into the ocean around it and stared at her in surprise.

"Molly, look out!" Harry shouted as it snapped out of the surprise and at Molly. She avoided its fangs by a wing's breadth and escaped back to the peach which was quickly rising in the air by now, the others having continued with their jobs even with the drama. The Serpent took in another great load of water, but thanks to Molly's previous actions and everyone's dedication, the water splashed harmlessly against the bottom of the peach, propelling it slightly more into the air. There was a frustrated screeching sound and then everyone watched as the great Serpent dived below the surface of the water, disappearing into the depths.

A sigh of relief rolled across the 'deck'. The fairy Queen came and sat impertinently on Harry's shoulder.

"Out of trouble, now. Where go?" she asked with satisfied and questioning tones. Harry looked around at everyone.

"Does anyone have any suggestions?" The insects all exchanged glances with each other, then Hermione spoke.

"You have so many good ideas, Harry. Do you have anywhere in mind?" Harry hesitated. He did actually have somewhere he wanted to go, somewhere his parents had always said he would visit one day, but he wasn't sure if his insect friends would be happy there.

"Well, what would suit you all?"

"Somewhere busy," Draco said. "I like to be sociable. Hopefully humans can throw as good a party as centipedes."

"Now I'm big enough to read books without having someone else open them for me, I'd like to go to somewhere that has a library. If you don't mind, of course," said Hermione eagerly.

"Somewhere with plenty of dirt," insisted Neville. "This peach is all very well, but nothing like a good patch of fresh dirt."

"I like plenty of shadowy corners," said Severus darkly. "The sun doesn't agree with me."

"What about you, Molly?" asked Harry. She smiled at him.

"I miss all my children. I would like to be somewhere with many children who I can teach, nurture and love." Harry beamed.

"Then I've got a place that'll suit all of you. Hogwarts!"

"Hogwarts?" They all chorused, even the fairy Queen that most of them had forgotten was still sitting on Harry's shoulder, listening in.

"Yeah. My dad used to tell me about it. It's a huge castle in Scotland so has plenty of dirt around and dark corners inside, Severus and Neville. It has the largest library in England, dad said, so that would suit you, Hermione. It's a school so has plenty of children from eleven to seventeen. The younger ones would probably welcome teaching and love from someone like you, Molly, and the older ones probably throw a good party, Draco. Even if they don't, you can teach them how to do it." All the bugs grinned at him, several rubbing their hands – or several pairs of hands. "Does that sound fine?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling slightly insecure. The furious nods quickly reassured him.

"You bet!" exclaimed Hermione. Harry turned to the fairy Queen, answering the question which had started the discussion.

"Hogwarts. We'll go to Hogwarts."

Of course, it turned out that having never been further than the small territory the fairy Queen governed, the Queen had no idea of where to go. Harry put the question to his friends and Draco quickly boasted that he had been to Scotland hundreds of times: it was just finding the castle which would be the tricky part. Trusting in his words, the bugs left the navigation in the centipede's many hands.

When night came, everything was still. The fairies were taking shifts on the flying, so about a third of them were snoozing on the top of the peach, their bellies stuffed from all the peach they had eaten. Luckily, the peach was so vast it would take many hordes of fairies to put even a dent in its sweet flesh. Harry had been tucked into his web-bed by Severus, but hadn't been able to sleep. Worries were chasing themselves around in his head: things that had seemed so easy in the light of day now seemed so much more ephemeral at night-time. Sighing, he got up and climbed out onto the 'deck'.

Harry sat on the fence-post platform, swinging his legs over the empty air below, the questions buzzing around his head like wasps and stinging him every so often. He was so engrossed that he didn't notice Neville sliding up behind him.

"Are you OK, Harry?" Neville asked and Harry almost fell off the platform. Neville quickly helped him back on and they sat in silence for a moment or two while Harry stilled his racing heart.

"Neville," he breathed when he was feeling better. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry," Neville said apologetically. "Still, you looked pretty deep in thought, there. Anything you want to talk about?" he offered almost hesitantly. Harry considered the offer. He had never really talked about his problems: before his parents had died, he hadn't really had many and his mother was always there to give him a hug or his father to make a joke; after, he had had no one who cared as the Dursleys would have probably laughed at him if not given him a punishment as well for using up their time. He wondered whether it would help.

"We're on our way now, aren't we," Harry said finally, softly. "On our way to Hogwarts." Neville nodded.

"Indeed we are. Are you excited?"

"Ye-es," Harry said, slightly unsurely.

"You're not?" Neville asked.

"It's just…." Harry trailed off, thinking about how to put his feelings in words. "What if they don't like me?" he asked in a rush. "What if we go all the way there and then find they behave like the Dursleys? What if they send me back to the Dursleys? What if I'm a freak there too?" Harry bit his lip furiously as he tried to keep the tears in, but found a couple escaped despite his attempt. Neville used his tail to pat Harry on the shoulder and give him a sort of hug.

"Harry, one of my many uncles once told me: you never know 'till you try. Maybe your worries are true. Maybe they won't like you, but _I_ don't think so. Neither does Severus, Molly, Hermione, Draco or Trelawney. Who cares what the Dursleys thought? They were horrible people! They killed several of my family. You saved us. And if they think they're going to send you back to the Dursleys, well, they'll have to go through us first!" He tilted Harry's face towards him and tried to convey his seriousness with his dark glasses. "You are a lovely person and I am proud to call you my friend." A wavering and trembling smile grew on Harry's face.

"Oh Neville!" he cried, burying his face in Neville's coils. He cried, great shuddering sobs which racked his whole body. He cried for all the times he had held the tears in after his parents' death. He cried for all the times he had been told to shut up by his relatives. He cried for all the creatures he had seen squashed or sprayed, some of whom were probably relatives of his friends. He cried for the past, but also in relief of the present. Finally, all cried out, he fell asleep, still clinging onto Neville but with a looser grip now.

"The poor dear," Molly's motherly voice said from beside Neville. "Let's get him inside. The air up here's too cold for a human child. He should be in bed." She lifted him up with three of her arms and smoothed his hair back from his forehead with her fourth. "He's too young to have been through so much pain," she clucked disapprovingly.

"He'll heal," said Neville decisively.

"You're sure?"

"Definitely. Well, I'm pretty sure, anyway. Several of my cousins went through awful trauma and came out right in the end." Molly rolled her eyes.

"They're worms, silly boy."

"Hey, worms feel pain too! Why, I had an cousin who was split right in half by a shovel! He…." The went inside and the sound of their voices dropped to an indistinguishable murmur. The outside was left cold and still apart from the slight snores of the snoozing fairies and the flitter-flutter of the flying ones.

The next day it poured with rain, absolutely bucketed down. Everyone had retreated to the inside of the peach and closed the entrance hole. Harry felt a bit sorry for the fairies, reminded of times he had been shut out of the Dursley's house in the rain because his aunt had gone somewhere with Dudley after school and, of course, he wasn't trusted with a key so he couldn't get in. Those days he had done his best to huddle under a bush or other cover to try to stay at least slightly dry.

As a result of these unpleasant reminiscences, he braved the rain to ask whether they wanted to come in. He had not expected the fairies to be cavorting in the raindrops, having the time of their lives. Puzzled because he thought that water was bad for the faries' wings, he questioned the Queen. She told him that rain was fine: their wings were slightly water-resistant and so could cope with rain without problem. It was the concentrated blast of water the Serpent sent that would have been an issue if it had hit: so much water would have drenched them in a way rain never could. Thus reassured, Harry retreated back into the dry interior of the giant fruit.

He crawled back into the comfortable bed Severus had made him out of his web. To be honest, though the silky thread wrapping did make him feel a little like a fly the spider had caught, it was far warmer and more comfy than his cupboard had been. He was still slightly tired: the stresses of the past couple of days were catching up with him.

When he woke, he was completely slept out and bright-eyed, full of energy. He managed to convince Neville to play 'it' with him. Unfortunately, they kept falling over things. Molly then got him to play hide and seek. They were joined by Hermione and had a fun time. Harry was hiding in one of the tunnels in the peach flesh when he bumped against a hard body with many legs.

"Push off, kid," Draco said grumpily, woken from a nice sleep.

"Sorry," Harry whispered. He was starting to crawl out when he was caught by Molly, the 'finder' for the moment.

"Gotcha!" she said, smiling at him. He smiled back but her attention was caught by the figure of the centipede.

"Draco? What are you doing in here?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"Where else should I be?" replied Draco in a grumble.

"Why, minding the tiller, of course!" Her voice by this point had attracted the other insects and they gathered around.

"Indeed," interjected Severus' smooth voice. "If our captain is not at his post then how do we know we won't be lost?"

"Ah don't worry yourselves," Draco said dismissively. "I've set the tiller to the right course. No point in me getting myself soaked for no reason."

"But what if something changes? What if the wind gets up or changes direction? Surely you need to be able to adjust our course? How can you do that if you're asleep in here?" demanded Hermione.

"Oh shut up you know-it-all," snarled Draco. "Look, who's the one who has been to Scotland, me or you?"

"You, but-"

"Well then, let me take you there instead of whining all the time!" Draco almost shouted. Harry pressed himself closer to Molly, his eyes wide and slightly frightened. He didn't like shouting. Shouting never meant anything good and usually heralded pain. He hoped his new friends wouldn't decide to use him as an outlet for their anger the way his relatives had. Molly, being the observant mother she was, noticed immediately and decided to put a stop to the discussion.

"Stop it, all of you! Draco, that was very mean of you. I think you should apologise to Hermione for being so rude!" She fixed him with a gimlet stare and under it, Draco quailed slightly and muttered an insincere apology. Molly nodded and then turned to the others. "Now, Draco is right in that he's the only one who knows how to get where we're going. While I agree a captain should be at the wheel, or in this case, stalk, of his ship, we must trust him to lead us well. We must remember," she continued, slightly pointedly "that Draco is also a passenger on this peach and so if anything goes wrong, he will be as much in trouble as the rest of us. More, perhaps, seeing as two of us can fly and another can spin a thread that might solve many dangerous situations. So, I think we should leave it to Draco's sense of responsibility and duty rather than nagging him. Are we in agreement?"*Everyone else nodded, some more readily than others.

Draco tried to go back to sleep but found her words nudging him to check on their direction. He climbed up on deck and looked at the tiller. He thought it might have changed a bit, but who's to worry? Scotland was big, he thought, so they should hit it sooner or later. This water couldn't go on forever. Shivering in the wet weather, he crawled back in quietly and went to a different tunnel after looking around. He didn't look up, though, and so missed seeing Severus's eight eyes gleaming at him in the near darkness.

*When I wrote this, I thought it seemed slightly out of character for Molly to advocate less nagging, but then I remembered how she was in canon. She nags, certainly, but not to the extent that she does in many fanfictions. She disapproves of her oldest sons' long hair and dragon-fang earing, but she supports Charlie in his dangerous career and Bill's job isn't exactly safe, either. Besides, in this, I see her and Severus as the main adults with Hermione, Draco and Neville being more like teenagers. They identify quite well with Harry who is fairly mature for his age, but are older than him regardless. In addition, I feel that the Molly in my story considers Harry like a son, but the others more of friends of her son than surrogate family. As a result, she would be less irrational. If Harry does something stupid, she's much more likely to nag and scold him, though not so he's afraid of her.


	7. Chapter 6: Seriously Lost

A/N Ah, sorry this is a day late. Not that it probably makes much difference. I was utterly exhausted last night and so forgot that I needed to update. Next week's update will be on Saturday, unless I forget again.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Seriously Lost

When Harry woke, he could see his breath steaming before his eyes. It was _cold_! He shivered and rubbed his arms trying to get some warmth into them. Going up on deck, he joined Severus and Hermione who were already there, muttering to each other in dark tones. Harry's eyebrows shot up. Everything that had got wet yesterday (and that was pretty much everything) had frozen. Harry accidentally trod on a slippery piece of ice that had formed over the surface of the peach and would have gone flying off the edge if Severus hadn't caught him with a long leg.

"W-what's happened?" he asked, shivering from the cold. Hermione stamped with her foot and cracked a section of the ice, kicking the pieces away to try to make some safer ground. Harry and Severus joined in with her.

"I'll tell you what's happened," growled Hermione as she vented her anger on the ice. "That fool of a centipede wasn't on duty last night and so has got us off course!" She would have continued but Molly and Neville came out at that moment.

"Oh, it's cold enough to freeze aphids!" Molly exclaimed. Neville was too busy shivering to say anything. Finally, the cause of the inclement temperatures came up on deck, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning guys," he started cheerfully. "What've I missed?"

"What you've missed, you misbegotten, addlepated idiot is that we are a bit further north than we should be! It's freezing! We should not be freezing!" yelled Hermione, her legs starting to rub against her body to make chirping noises in her agitation.

"What Miss Grasshopper means to convey," broke in Severus' silky voice, "is that by neglecting your duty, and don't say you didn't because I saw you creep in last night not that long after our little discussion, you have managed to lose us, unless you happen to know where we are, of course."

"I do know where we are!" Draco said indignantly.

"Oh?" inquired Severus, two of his four brows elegantly raised. "Do tell."

"We're…uh, well, we're North?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"We know that, you idiot, as we haven't been travelling for long enough to get to the cold bit in the South. Where are we in the North and how do we get to Hogwarts from here?"

"Uh, we need to go South?" He hurriedly continued seeing Hermione's eyes light up, and not in a good way. "South West. I think. Or it could be South East. Or maybe due South?" He trembled for a moment under all their gazes. "I don't know, don't blame me!" he shouted and dived back through the hole to get away from them.

"Well, that's torn it," sighed Neville. "I guess we're going to freeze to death here and never get to taste the dirt of Hogwarts."

"We could just go South," suggested Hermione. "We're bound to hit land somewhere as long as we make sure to err on the side of East rather than West."

"But how do we know where the compass directions are?" countered Molly. "In this dark and gloomy weather, we can't even see where the sun is to gauge our direction." They all descended into silence. Unable to take sitting still, Harry started to kick more of the ice away. Severus handed him one of his threads and held him steady so if he slipped he wouldn't go plunging off the edge of the peach, to be lost in the sea below forever.

Just as he was gazing out, hoping to see land somewhere, he spotted a black dot on the horizon. Leaning out to see if he could make out any details, he almost slipped and had to grab onto the thread to regain his balance. Suddenly, he wondered whether Severus with his eight eyes would have a better chance at seeing what the dot was.

"Severus!" he shouted excitedly, hauling himself up. "Severus, can you see that black dot there?" he asked, pointing wildly at what he had spotted. Severus frowned and strained his eyes.

"Why," he started slowly "I do believe it is some kind of island!"

"An island?" asked Hermione perking up.

"If there's an island, there might be people," said Molly thoughtfully.

"And people might know where we are and which way's Scotland!" finished Neville. They looked around at each other, barely able to believe their luck.

"Right, Mr Spider," said Harry in solemn tones. "Set a course for that island!" Severus inclined his head lightly and then scurried over to the stalk, turning it so the fairies flew directly towards the black lump in the steel-grey sea.

Two hours later, the island looked much less enticing. It was not only black because of distance but also black because of the material it was made of. The majority of the island was taken up by a massive black building with narrow slits for windows and a hole in the middle. The shape was roughly triangular and the whole effect was rather forbidding. There was a docking port, a small one with no boats, made out of slimy wood. At least, they thought it would be slimy since it winked wetly at them even in the dull grey light of the day. Harry was sure it was colder near the island than it was when they had been two hours away. Even the fairies were struggling a bit, their movements turning slightly jerky as if their joints were freezing up.

Not seeing any way to get into the building from the ground floor, Harry called up to the fairies and asked them to lift the peach up so they could go down the hole in the centre. The fairies laboured to carry out his wishes and then settled down gratefully in a warm huddle on top of the peach once it was balanced carefully on the roof of the place.

"Right," announced Harry to the rest of the bugs. "I'll go down and find a way in and try to ask someone where we are and how to get to Scotland."

"How, might I ask, are you intending on getting down there?" asked Severus silkily. "You cannot fly and I hope you are not thinking of _climbing_ down! Those walls look very unsafe: crumbling and damp!" Harry hadn't thought of that.

"Ah, I was, um, hoping you could come?" he asked hesitantly, not sure if Severus would be willing to do so. Severus seemed to consider it.

"Very well. Now, you'll need a bit more covering than you have on at the moment. Wait and I'll weave you something." Harry had to agree that Dudley's baggy cast-offs were not exactly suited to the cold, but he had nothing else. Severus' skill with thread, however, was unmatched. He wove a warm cloak out of his non-sticky thread in a few minutes and wrapped it around Harry who sighed in pleasure at its warmth.

"OK, let's go," Harry firmly. They were preparing to leave when a small voice from behind Molly, Neville and Hermione called out.

"Wait!" Draco said pitifully. "Please, let me come with you!" Harry bit his lip.

"Why should we?" demanded Severus, taking the lead.

"Look, I messed up, I know. I'm sorry. I just want to help put things right," Draco said, looking down. Severus considered it. He then turned to Harry to make the decision.

"Harry? What do you think?" Harry thought, worrying his lip as usual. On the one hand the centipede had already messed up once. On the other, he had messed up many times and had always longed for someone to just, for once, let him do something to make up for it instead of always punishing him.

"Let him come," he decided. "He has as much reason to want to get out of here as any of us."

Draco put his multiple pairs of arms to good use when holding onto Harry as well as the thread and also holding the hole they ultimately decided to use to get in. They had decided that Draco and Harry should go down first with Severus lowering them slowly and then Severus would tie off his thread and abseil down to join them. Harry couldn't help shivering as they descended. It was cold, dark and altogether nasty. The walls seemed to lean in on them and the narrow slits looked like angry eyes watching them. The hole they found was slightly bigger than most of the others and had an iron bar dividing it in two instead of being a narrow slit by itself. Draco heaved at the iron bar, puffing and panting.

"Could do with an ant, about now," he said between huffs.

"An ant?"

"Sure. The little blighters are the weight-lifting champions of the garden: they can lift fifty times their own body weight! Like I said, we could do with one now."

"Can you do it, or should I call for Severus?" Draco looked insulted.

"What d'you take me for, squirt? I might not be an ant, but I'm perfectly able to pull out iron bars. Well, now I'm six feet long, that is." True to his word, at last he managed to heave the iron bar hard enough to pull it out of the wall. They climbed in and signaled by pulling the thread that Severus could come down now.

Together, all three walked softly in the corridors. Harry shivered once again, this time more from fear from cold and pressed himself close to Severus' reassuring bulk. Severus wrapped one leg – or arm – around him comfortingly. This place didn't look like a home. It didn't look welcoming at all. In fact, it looked distinctly like a prison. The walls were lined with alcoves barred off from the corridors with thick pieces of iron. Many of the cells were empty, but several contained heaps of rags that Harry only realised were humans when one shifted, revealing the dirty form beneath. He gasped and jerked towards the cell door.

"Severus, Draco, we need to help them!" The two bugs looked a bit more reluctant, but moved towards him. It was lucky they did so as they were therefore within grabbing range of Harry when the heap of rags lurched towards him, reaching out with clutching hands to snatch at his clothes. Harry was dragged back into the protection of Severus' legs and the dirty human cackled madly, its eyes rolling around its head, the whites showing as it gibbered. Harry whimpered, almost out of his head with fear. Severus, little less scared, turned Harry around.

"We're safe, we're fine. He can't get at you from the other side of the bars. I'll protect you. Draco will protect you. Either of us would die before we allow you to come to harm. Don't worry." Draco embraced Harry from the back and they huddled together. Slowly, Harry's trembling subsided and he rubbed his face roughly.

"Can-can we go back?" he asked his voice breaking. "Maybe-maybe we can find somewhere else. I don't think I want to meet the people here!" Severus swallowed: if they set off without knowing which direction to go in, they would quite likely drift off into open ocean and keep flying until the peach was eaten enough for it to collapse or it spoiled, thereby letting them drown or starve. That taken into account, he still couldn't refuse Harry's fearful request. He couldn't expect a child to take on an adult's burden, even if he had done so many times in the past.

"OK, Harry," he said softly. "Let's go back." They started off down the passageway, but realised rather quickly that Draco was not with them. They stopped and turned around to see the centipede hovering back up the corridor.

"Look guys, I caused this mess, so I'll sort it out. I'll go and find someone to ask for directions. You go back to the peach. Just leave the thread hanging and I'll be back." Severus nodded, nowhere as near concerned for Draco as he was for Harry and they continued.

A few minutes later, they heard the pattering of many feet drumming their way down the corridor. They looked back to see Draco running at full speed towards them, his face a rictus of fear.

"Quick, Severus, quick! Spin a web across the corridor!" he shouted skidding to a halt behind Severus.

"Why?" asked Severus, already starting to create his thread.

"Just do it! You'll see sooner than you will want to." Severus quickly worked and just as he was putting the last few threads in place, they saw why Draco had reacted so fearfully. Coming towards them were gliding black, tattered cloaks, the hoods wreathed in shadow. The cloaks reached out hands, scabby, skeletal hands towards them and rattling breaths shuddered through them. Harry fell to the floor as the freezing aura they gave off got to his brain. He heard screaming and words, then a flash of light.

"Take Harry and go! I'll hold him off!" a man's voice shouted.

"No, not Harry. Please, not Harry!" a woman's voice pleaded.

"Avada Kedavra!" a thin high voice screamed.

"Wake up! Wake up, Harry!" Harry felt a stinging pain across his cheeks and opened his eyes to see Severus crouching above him. "Are you with us?"

"Yeah," Harry said, almost paralysed with the fear that still rattled through his brain and made him tremble violently. There was an odd sound in his ears and he tried to shake it away. When it didn't go, he frowned. It sounded as though a dog was barking, but surely there wasn't a dog in this god-forsaken place? He sat up and Severus retreated off him, helping him stand. The cloaks were held behind the thread, but Harry was pretty sure it wouldn't last for long: the edges were already crumbling. He darted a quick glance around and spotted the dog out of the corner of his eyes the second time around.

It was a black, shabby looking creature with almost every bone sticking out. It was behind bars, but Harry was pretty sure it could get out as it was so thin. He was hit by a strong wave of pity and an almost equally strong sense of familiarity. Without thinking, he patted his knees and called out.

"Here boy! Come here, boy." The dog cocked its head on one side and then threw itself at the bars, trying to squeeze through. Unfortunately, the bars were just about too closely placed for it to get its head out. The dog gave a mournful howl. "Oh Draco, please help him!" implored Harry. "You're so strong, you'd bend those bars in no time!" Draco puffed his chest out, flattered enough to almost forget the situation. Posing very slightly, he took hold of two bars and started to pull them apart. Harry darted a glance around and accidentally caught Severus' eye. The spider was looking at him speculatively and with some satisfaction. Harry flushed, not sure whether he should be feeling guilty or proud.

There was a groaning creak as Draco managed to bend the iron bars. The dog squeezed out of the cell, wriggling a bit to get its shoulders and hips through the newly made hole. Harry beamed at Draco who looked uncharacteristically embarrassed, but pleased, at the expression.

"Harry, let's go," urged Severus.

"Yeah, squirt, let's leave the creepy cloaks behind, shall we?" seconded Draco, darting a nervous look behind him. The cloaks were almost through the web.

"On my back!" said Severus, boosting Harry up. The dog growled and Severus sent it a quelling glance, then took off down the corridor. The bugs were fast and it was all the dog could do to keep up, weakened as it was.

They reached the hole and squeezed through, Harry clinging onto Severus' back and Severus grabbing the dog by its tail just as they got through. Draco climbed ahead of them and Severus gathered up his thread as he went to try to avoid giving the cloaks any extra help. They got to the peach and Severus quickly shouted at the fairies to flee for their lives. The fairies, warmed by their rest, took off in record time and lifted the peach away from the forbidding building.

Severus dropped the dog on the deck of the peach and Harry slid off his back.

"Thank you," Harry said vehemently. "Am I glad to be out of that place!"

"Aren't we all?" asked Draco, equally strongly. They all gathered around the dog, wondering exactly why they now had an extra passenger on board who might not be as happy eating fruit as the rest of them were. The dog looked around at all of them, its hackles lifting slightly. It then looked at Harry and began to relax.

Suddenly, under their concerned gazes, the skeletal and shivering dog turned into a skeletal and shivering man. Everyone backed away from him, getting ready to resist any attempt to hurt them. The man, however, didn't look in any real state to fight and merely sat up, stretching out a hand to Harry, a beseeching look on his face.

"James…" he croaked with a voice that was unused to being used for anything but screaming.

A/N I realised as I wrote this that my Harry is darker than James in the film (I don't know about the original novel). Upon thinking about the reasons, I figured that James never really experienced betrayal. He didn't have any teachers who should have helped him but didn't for fear of their jobs, nor did he have classmates who refused to play with him because they were afraid of what his cousin would do. The only adults we see in James' past are either good, his parents, or bad, his Aunts. Even when he gets to New York, the people there, though at first half-believing his Aunts' story of him being a pathological liar, still get indignant at his Aunts' brutal treatment of him. Harry has had to deal with all the adults in his life either being too afraid to get involved, deciding it's not their business, or even adding to his misery. The first 'people' he trusts are not humans: they're enormous bugs. To be honest, that's the only real reason he is able to trust them almost straight off: without giving too much away, Sirius is unlikely to have nearly as much ease.

Question for this chapter: what do you think about the action? Was it fast-paced enough? Too quick? Any other comment is also welcome, as always.


	8. Chapter 7: Ice and Fire

A/N OK, here's another chapter. Now, I'm not going to threaten to withhold the next chapter unless I get a certain number of reviews: authors who do that really annoy me when I'm reading. It is quite disheartening, however, that I've put the effort to write this story, but to be honest, if I hadn't looked at the hit count on my stats, I would have thought no one was reading this. Seriously, I'm not doing this for money, to put on my CV or anything else: I'm doing it to become a better writer and if I don't get people telling me where I'm going wrong (or right), how can I improve? So, if you are reading this, please just drop me a word. Even a 'liked the bit with Severus' or 'didn't like the bit with Draco' would help.

Anyway, enough serious stuff. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Ice or Fire*

The dog, Padfoot lay huddled in Sirius' cell. The floor was cold but his coat kept out the worst of the chill. The overwhelming fear from the nasty-smelling creatures who had marked this territory as their own was unpleasant, but Padfoot had little to fear. As a dog he did not really look beyond the present, so he cowered when the creatures were near and forgot them when they were further away. His tail thumped idly, not in either pleasure or annoyance, just to move. If he had been better fed he would have been pacing, but as it was, he was too weak to be overly active but too bored to stay still.

His ears pricked as his sensitive hearing picked up some sounds that were out of the ordinary. There was shouting, not that that was unusual, but the tone certainly was, and the sound of many scurrying feet. Padfoot stood up as he heard the commotion come towards him, with it coming the cold of the dead creatures.

Into his somewhat disbelieving gaze, the biggest centipede and spider he had ever seen came running down the corridor. Padfoot almost missed the little man-child walking alongside the massive arachnid but once he saw him, his attention was caught. That messy fur on the top of his head was so very familiar, and the scent…oh, the scent! Padfoot took a moment to luxuriate in the comforting smell that the child carried which wafted with the cold breeze into his cell.

When he refocused, the situation made his hackles rise and a growl form in his throat. There was a web across the corridor holding back the cold creatures and the spider was standing over his precious child! No doubt about to eat him. Ooh, if Sirius were free…. He started barking.

"Come over here you big bully!" he growled. "Take on someone your own size!" Unfortunately all he got was a disinterested glance. Pity the spider couldn't understand perfectly good barking! Trapped by the cell bars, Sirius could only watch as the spider leant down to consume its prey. He was then surprised and not a little relieved when all the spider did was try to wake the boy up. He did, however, start barking once more in protest when the over-sized arachnid whacked his little one across the face. He had to admit, however, that it was effective.

The boy looked over to him and Sirius was able to study him properly. What he saw almost made him howl once more from recognition and happiness. He watched as the boy patted his knees and called him. Sirius tried to get through the bars as he had many times before, but the result was the same as it always was: failure.

This time, however, there was someone on the other side of the bars who wanted to help him. Sirius watched as the boy succeeded in using a tried and tested, though often unsubtle, method of manipulation. Within minutes Sirius was able to get out of the cell which had held him for too long. He would have liked to stay for a moment and gloat, but the dementors started breaking through the web and they all ran.

From there, it was a blur of movement. Running, more exertion than he had done in years put together, trying to keep up with the enormous insects which could move faster than he might have thought, though with that number of legs, maybe it wasn't surprising. They climbed out of a window, were drawn up a rope to a gigantic orange ball and landed amidst a number of other huge insects. Fairies – fairies! – then lifted them and they flew away. Sirius, using Padfoot's senses, realised that their vehicle was actually a fruit, a peach to be precise. To be honest, though his meat-loving body was repulsed by the thought, it was taking a great deal of will-power not to just bite down on the thing that had been part of his dreams for years: a big, dripping, sweet peach. Instead, however, he wanted to talk and to do so he had to change form.

The change was painful and awkward: after being a dog for so long he was unused to a bi-pedal form. Now, fully human, the name which had eluded him as a dog came to his lips, too heavy and forceful to be contained by his mouth.

"James…" he croaked, his hand lifting without permission to reach towards his dear friend.

Harry looked at the man, knowing he should be wary, yet all his instincts screaming for him to trust.

"I-I'm not James. My name's Harry. Harry Potter. What's yours?" he asked falteringly. To be honest, he wasn't quite sure how he should go about the introductions. He had never really done them: the children at school had always been scared off by Dudley before he even got near them and other adults he met always had their perceptions coloured by the Dursleys, or at least the rumours they had created.

The man's face showed surprise and his gaze focused on Harry's face.

"Harry? Is it really you?" his voice was a whisper. "Merlin, you've grown." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Children do that. How long has it been?" Harry frowned.

"What do you mean? Do we know each other?" The man flinched as if he had been struck.

"You…you don't remember me?" Harry hesitantly shook his head, shifting backwards a bit so he was hidden slightly more by Severus in case the man decided to attack him. "You seriously don't remember me? Your father's friend, Sirius Black? Padfoot? Please tell me it hasn't been that long!" Harry's memory was jogged by the name Padfoot. He remembered a dog, probably much like the one they had rescued, though not so scrawny. He had ridden on its back. His father had been laughing.

That memory sparked off a stream of others, all centring around this man/dog person in either form. A smile started to grow on his face, weak at first but getting stronger.

"You're my Uncle Paddy?" he said, his tone unsure. The beaming smile he got in reply made his own strengthen.

"You do remember me!" Sirius leapt to his feet and made to engulf Harry in a huge hug. Harry, however, was understandably wary of men and quick movements, so when Sirius lunged forwards, Harry slipped under Severus' belly for protection. Sirius almost fell off the edge of the peach, only saving himself by cartwheeling his arms. He whipped around and scowled mightily to see Harry under the spider's body. He frowned even more when the spider used two of his legs to keep him away from his godson.

"I'm his godfather," he finally barked, growling at the creature as well for effect. The spider looked unimpressed.

"He's under my protection."

"He doesn't need your protection, you over-sized bug! He's got me now." Severus sneered at him.

"And you think yours would be any better, you mangy mutt?" Sirius snarled back wordlessly and the two prepared to fight whether it be with words or actions, or both. They were interrupted by Draco's voice.

"Now, I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds," he drawled "but we have a little issue here." He pointed back the way they had come. All three moved closer to the edge of the peach so they could see clearer the issue that Draco was referring to. A sense of horror came over them all. A cloud of black had risen over Azkaban and was coming quickly towards them, faster than they could fly away. Soon it was near enough for them to distinguish what it was made of. The first fingers of cold started to touch all their hearts as they saw the fluttering black rags.

"Damn!" Sirius cursed. "I forgot dementors could fly!"

The fairies flew as fast as they could, but the Peach was just so heavy and unwieldy. The dementors got ever closer. Finally, the fairies simply abandoned the fruit, dropping it the short remaining distance to the water below. Thus unencumbered, they zoomed off into the distance as a shimmering cloud. The passengers on the Peach watched them leave with horror, Molly raising a fist and calling out 'cowards' at them.

Very soon they started to feel more than just cold. Everyone started shuddering and paling, Hermione going a lighter shade of green than normal.

"No," said Harry weakly as screaming started once more and darkness clawed at his vision. Sirius yelled wordlessly as his godson went down, collapsing onto the top of the Peach.

Being more accustomed to dementors' effects than the others, he was just about able to crawl over to Harry, cradling the boy's head in his lap. He looked around. All the bugs were fallen, some moving weakly but mostly still apart from the violent shivering. The cumulative effects of practically every dementor in Azkaban were too much for beings who had never even heard of them before.

Desperately, Sirius tried to think of a way out of the situation, but without a wand he was helpless. The first dementors started to swoop closer, landing on the top of the Peach, frost spreading out from under their cloaks. Sirius gripped Harry's body and growled, sounding uncommonly like his animagus form. They would not take his godson!

Harry was unaware of the situation. All he knew was fear. The memory of the woman's screams had become clearer, repeating over and over again, ending with a green light each time. Then, like an unwanted phantom, Uncle Vernon appeared, stomping towards him with purple face and grasping hands ready to grab and squeeze. Harry recoiled with a cry. Arms were round him, restricting him. At first he struggled a little, trying to break free, but they were unyielding. Then, as he heard the words muttered above him, he relaxed slightly into their comfort.

"Not Harry. Not my godson, you demons!" Suddenly Harry wasn't seeing Vernon coming towards him, he was reliving all those times any of his relatives had callously squashed an insect under a magazine, a shoe or a fly swat. This imagination conjured up Vernon, Petunia or Dudley hitting his friends, beating them to the ground and killing them. Unconsciously mimicking the screaming woman and Sirius, he muttered:

"Not my friends! You won't get my friends, you bastards!" Feeling the growing power he had tapped into twice before, once consciously, he directed all his protective feelings at the figments of his imagination.

Sirius was watching the dementor stoop down towards him. He freed one hand from Harry and struck out. The dementor was surprisingly quick: its rotting hand grasping Sirius' wrist with a strong grip belied by its skeletal appearance. Holding the arm out sideways, the dementor leaned in. Inches away from Sirius' mouth, it pulled away. Confused because he had expected to be kissed, Sirius opened his eyes, a small part of his mind wondering when he had closed them. To his great surprise, the dementor was already two steps away from both of them. Looking down, he realised why.

Harry was glowing, glowing with a white light that surrounded him in an aura. Sirius hesitantly touched his cheek and gasped. The sheer amount of love and protectiveness in the light warmed him all the way through and surrounded him in a comfort he hadn't felt since before Azkaban. Sirius looked around. All the dementors were wary, neither retreating nor advancing. There were a couple of dementors crouched near the big ladybird and spider, but their hoods were turned towards Harry and Sirius. The animagus was struck by an idea that would normally be dismissed as sheer impossibility, but in these circumstances might just work. Just then, thankfully, Harry stirred.

"Severus?" he asked groggily and Sirius felt momentarily jealous.

"It's Sirius, Harry." Harry opened his eyes and focussed on Sirius' face.

"Are they gone?" he asked hopefully.

"No, but I think you might be able to get rid of them." Harry frowned.

"I don't think so. I couldn't do anything before."

"But you did! Whatever you were just doing sent the one attacking off like a frightened rabbit! What were you doing?" Harry shivered.

"I was just trying to stop my relatives killing my friends."  
"Well, whatever you did, it worked. Do you think you could do it again with these?"

"I don't know," Harry trailed off, sitting up so he could look around. "They don't look as though they're trying to kill everyone."

"No," agreed Sirius grimly. "They aren't trying to kill. Instead, they're trying to take the soul of everyone on this fruit and eat them. It's a fate worse than death, to be honest."

"They eat souls?" cried Harry, horrified. Sirius just nodded. Harry scrutinised him. He looked like he was telling the truth. "Well," Harry started, a growing anger in his voice. "No-one is going to eat my friends' souls!" He stood up shakily with Sirius' help and glared around at the dementors. "You stay away from my friends!" he shouted, drawing on that power once more. From his outstretched hands, a ball of white appeared. It grew bigger and bigger until Harry was dwarfed by it. With a wordless scream, he pushed the ball at the dementors.

Sirius watched as what he thought must be a wandless patronus struggled for shape. The white misty ball shifted, morphing into different shapes as quick as blinking. Finally, it seemed to decide. A rather monstrous creature with the wings of a ladybird, the legs of a spider, another set of legs like a grasshopper, the tail of a worm, the horns of a centipede and the nose of a dog charged the dementors, sending them tumbling through the skies like autumn leaves.**

The dementors disappeared as quickly as they had arrived and the bugs quickly recovered with their departure. Finally, the sky clear and the air warm in comparison, the creature returned. It tossed its head, landed near Harry and then disappeared. Harry, shaking and pale, collapsed.

*This is from Frost's poem 'some say the Earth will end in Fire, some say in Ice'. One of my favourite poems and I thought it was quite appropriate. I really recommend you look it up on google if you don't know it already.

**In this case, the shape isn't something Harry feels protected by, but an amalgamation of the beings he wants to protect.


	9. Chapter 8: Conversations

This has only been checked through by me. Beware of errors.

Enjoy!

Chapter 8: Conversations

When Harry woke, he was down in the inside room of the peach, comfortably held by Sirius on one side and Severus on the other. The two seemed to be having an argument in whispers, but stopped abruptly when Harry stirred. Immediately they were both jumping on him in concern. Harry felt simultaneously uncomfortable and guiltily appreciative of the attention. He reassured them he was fine, though the lie was put to his words when he tried to sit up and fell back weakly.

"I hate those things," he murmured. Sirius smiled grimly.

"I'm not too keen on dementors myself."

"Dementors?"

"Those things."

"You know what they are?" Sirius nodded.

"As much as anyone does, I suppose. They're called dementors. They feed off happy memories* and exude fear. They also eat souls and the process is called the dementor's kiss as the souls are taken through the victims' mouths." Harry shivered.

"They really…eat souls?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Don't be filling his mind with such horrible images, Mr Dog-father. The poor dear's had a horrible experience. What he needs to be eating is some peach!" Harry had to smile at that. He was feeling rather hungry….

Four hours later, Harry leaned against one of the walls, his belly groaning. He was sure he would never get sick of eating this delicious fruit. It was just so sweet, juicy, slurpable and scrummy. The meal had turned into somewhat of a celebration party once the major eating had been got out the way. They had been entertained in turn by Draco telling jokes, Hermione playing a jaunty tune on her fiddle, Molly doing a bit of a dance to another violin melody, Neville doing some stand-up comedy and Trelawney almost piercing their ear drums when she sang a bit of opera.

They even managed to get Sirius and Severus to have an almost amicable argument of insults with the rules of no violence or involving of other people. Sirius, of course, was quite happy to tell many tales of Harry's father and the other two in his group and the pranks they pulled, though strangely his face darkened every time he mentioned a certain 'Pettigrew'. To finish off, Hermione played a good country song that got them all jigging around the place like mad creatures.

Finally, everyone well-fed and happy, they all collapsed down onto the floor, panting and blowing. All the activities had the positive side-effect of making Sirius one of the 'crew' rather than an outsider along for the ride.

"So," asked Sirius, turning to Molly. "Why Mr Dog-father?" The name had stuck, though Sirius did keep asking to be called Padfoot. Molly smiled.

"Why, because you're Harry's godfather, but also able to turn into a dog, of course. It seems silly to call you Mr Padfoot or Mr Sirius, so Mr Dog-father it has to be."

"You could call me just Sirius or Padfoot, you know." Molly looked horrified.

"I don't know you nearly well enough to call you by your Christian name!" Sirius sighed but gave up for now. The Peach lurched a moment and Harry, poking his head out the top entrance, realised they were up in the air again.

"When did the fairies come back?" he asked. Severus was the one to reply.

"The appeared, rather shame-faced, not long after you chased off the dementors. They said they came back to help, but I reckon they just realised they wouldn't be able to get to land before they died of exhaustion and so returned." Harry nodded. To be honest, he hadn't really expected them to stick around and was just grateful they had come back. He hoped that once they got to Hogwarts his friends would be willing to stay in contact, if only occasionally. It was nice to have friends, even if he knew it was only because they didn't have much of a choice.

They chatted for a while but then Severus introduced a drink he had been brewing. It was peach juice, of course, but this kind he had created the first time they realised they could eat and drink the Peach. He had squished a load of peach flesh into one of the odd containers that had somehow grown along with the Peach, and then strained it a bit so it had less pulpy bits in. This liquid he had left with a wooden lid over the top until the celebrations. The resulting drink was delicious. Sweet yet with a hint of sourness, smooth and refreshing but there was a lingering burn. Severus Spider had created peach wine, or at least the beginnings of it. It was little surprise, then, that the whole of the Peach was soon fast asleep and snoring in little piles on the floor.

They were a lot less celebratory the next morning. Harry and Hermione both had headaches, not being accustomed to drinking anything stronger than water, and the rest weren't too cheery either. It was another grey morning and they were cold. Plus, of course, though they had beaten off the dementors, they hadn't got the information they needed about how to get back to the UK. Sirius was the last to arrive and he seemed absolutely fine. They all glared at him for his bright spirits.

"Why are you all so down?" he asked, bouncing slightly on the spot.

"Because, you idiot dog, we have no way of finding our way back to land. The chances of going in the wrong direction and ending up lost are too high to risk willy-nilly," Severus said scathingly. Harry thought that he had taken a somewhat instant dislike to Sirius and wondered why.

"Pish," scorned Sirius. "You just need to go South-East and you'll hit land eventually."

"And you know where to find South-East, I assume," returned Severus sardonically.

"Of course. The sun rises in the East, so…oh." He had looked up and saw the ever present greyness of the cloud cover.

"Yes, oh," sighed Severus. They lapsed into silence again, each trying to think of how to divine their heading. Harry tried to think, but ways to tell where North was were not exactly the things he had been taught at school. Somehow, they now seemed more important than all the multiplication and addition sums he had been taught. His mind wandered onto other things.

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What was that place? It was so dark and horrible. Surely you didn't choose to live there?" Sirius chuckled grimly.

"No. It's Azkaban, the wizard's prison." This surprised them all.

"Wizards?" cried half of the group.

"Prison?" cried the other simultaneously. They looked at each other and then looked at Harry.

"Let's start with the wizards bit," he decided. "Wizards are real? I mean, real wizards who can do m-magic?"

"Of course they are!" exclaimed Sirius, shocked. "You don't remember your parents? They were wizards and did magic every day! You don't remember that?" He looked so very sad that Harry could hardly bear to say he didn't. Though, that wasn't strictly true….

"I…I remember some things, but I thought that when Mum lifted the plates off the table without touching them it was a dream. It wasn't?"

"Absolutely not. I'd show you if I had my wand, but unfortunately, I don't. Whatever gave you the idea they were only dreams? You were four, weren't you? Old enough to realise what is real and not, surely?" Harry looked away feeling ashamed.

"It's just…the Dursleys always told me magic was fantasy and punished me when I mentioned it. Like, they also told me that the dream I had of a nasty man coming and murdering my parents was a dream from a delinquent little boy. They told me my parents died in a car crash."

"A car crash!" shouted Sirius, leaping up and starting to pace. "A car crash kill Lily and James Potter?! The cheek of it!" Harry couldn't help but feel nervous and pressed himself into Severus' comforting bulk. Sirius always seemed so much bigger when he was standing compared to Harry. At least the bugs weren't actually human shaped. Severus wrapped an arm around him.

"Calm yourself, dog," he said sharply. Sirius looked over and seeing Harry's fear, sat down abruptly.

"Sorry, Harry, it's just that hearing those…those _muggles_ talking about my best friend and his wife like that makes me mad."

"It's alright," Harry said, smiling at him tentatively. "So what did happen?"

With that the whole story came out. How there had been a war in the wizarding world orchestrated by one man. How there had been a prophecy which made the Potters retreat into hiding with their young child instead of fighting. Sirius admitted he didn't know the content of the prophecy, but suspected it must have been about one of them, probably Harry, considering what happened after that. He told Harry about the fidelius charm and their choice to switch Secret Keepers. He recounted, in anguished tones, how they had accidentally trusted a traitor who betrayed them.

"So, when I arrived at the house, the stone in my possession which had been monitoring the wards smoking, I found a house that looked as if a bomb had hit it. My best friend lay in the lounge, his eyes wide and staring. Upstairs, Lily lay in front of your bed, her beautiful red hair stained with blood and her lovely eyes blank and glazed. You lay on the bed, your scar clotted with blood and your eyes closed. I thought Voldemort had come and killed you while you slept. I went looking for Peter Pettigrew, desiring revenge above everything. Little did I know that I should have instead been taking up my godfatherly duties. I found Pettigrew," he chuckled bitterly "oh yes, I found him.

"I shot a stunner but he shot a blasting curse. Only, not towards me; towards the street below. Suddenly, when the smoke cleared, there I was, alone. I walked slowly towards where he had been. There lay a finger, bloodied and damaged. All four of us were able to change into animals. I, a dog, James, a stag and Pettigrew, a rat. I realised later what he had done. He had shot off his own finger and then escaped into the sewers below as a rat. The Aurors came a moment later to find me laughing, the bodies of thirteen muggles around me and what they thought were the remnants of a wizard. Without a trial, I was sent to Azkaban, that Hell on Earth, the blackened reputation of my family name working against me."

He fell silent and the rest of them searched for something to say that wouldn't sound like a platitude in comparison.

"So," Harry started, a sort of hope in his voice. "So that's why I was left with the Dursleys? You didn't…you didn't not want me?"

"Oh, Harry," said Sirius intensely, grabbing Harry in a bone-crushing hug. "Dear child, if I'd known you were alive, neither hell nor high water would have pulled me away from you." Despite the sombre nature of the conversation, Harry couldn't help grinning widely. To know that someone _wanted _him, a _human_ wanted him was enough to make his heart sing. "In fact, Harry," Sirius started, a slightly nervous look on his face "when we get to Hogwarts, would you, I mean, if you want it, don't think you have to say 'yes'-"

"Oh get on with it, dog," Severus said sharply. Sirius cleared his throat.

"Uh, um. Oh for Merlin's sake!" He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then started again, his voice much calmer. "I know I don't have much to offer you, but would you let me adopt you? I know I'm not the best of-" He was cut off by Harry's fervent assent. Exuberantly, Harry then jumped on Sirius, drawing back a moment later into a ball, looking terrified and stammering apologies. "Come on Harry, that's what godsons do, hell, that's what sons do full stop!" Smiling broadly, Sirius pulled Harry back in.

The others couldn't help watching and smiling with the two, even Severus. Molly thought wistfully of all the children she had said goodbye to over the years, watching them crawl up their first grass blade and fly away into the big, blue sky. Draco thought mournfully about the father he had had who was never satisfied with what he did and how he had caused Draco to run away from home when he was full-grown and make his own life.

Finally when the conversation resumed, Hermione turned it to rather important matters.

"Since we weren't able to get directions from anyone in…Azkaban, was it?" Sirius nodded. "Yes, well, without directions, we don't know where to go. Any suggestions?" They all thought. Harry, once again let down by the lack of practical knowledge his school had given him, found his thoughts wandering.

They ended up on the original conversation with that old man, Dumbledore, he thought his name had been. Without that conversation, he would never have thought of escape and without the magical lemon-drops, the Peach and his friends would never have grown and none of this would have happened. He would probably still be in his cupboard, maybe in pain from a beating and certainly hungry. Suddenly, he remembered Dumbledore's final words. '_Your head will only take you so far. Use your heart to guide you when you don't know what to do.'_

Harry, almost unconsciously, reached up to touch his heart where the old man had touched him. He frowned when he felt something more than skin under the cloth. In fact, it felt like paper; crackled like paper too when he pressed it. Reaching inside the pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of odd paper: it was yellowed and stiffer than normal writing paper. He unfolded it and gasped. Everyone turned to him upon hearing the sound, but he was unaware of it.

Drawn on the material was England and a dotted line marked the way the Peach had gone from Surrey down to near Portsmouth, then sailed down the coast a little towards Cornwall, then flown between England and Ireland, a course that would have been hard to plot if they had planned it, and then overshot Scotland to go far into the North Sea. Where the dotted line stopped, a big red marker said 'You are here'. Hogwarts was also marked on the map right in the heart of the Scottish mountains and, wonder of wonders, a compass was in the top corner. Harry traced its design. It didn't stick out above or under the paper, yet when he moved the map around, the dial shifted, always making sure N was pointing in one direction.

"Harry," Sirius' voice sounded a little odd. "Where did you get that?"

"I-I don't know," Harry stammered, a bit nervous about what this hitherto unknown tone might signify. Severus whacked Sirius over the head with a leg and glared at him. Sirius looked at him, aggrieved.

"What was that for you hulking creepy-crawly?" Severus just glared at him.

"You're scaring the poor dear," Molly told him softly. Sirius looked and saw that it was true.

"Oh Harry, I'm not angry," Sirius quickly reassured him. "I just want to know where you got the map."

"I think the old man gave it to me, but I didn't find it until now."

"What old man."

"The one that gave me the magical lemon-drops which made everything grow." Sirius looked to be holding in some amusement.

"This old man, he didn't happen to be called Dumbledore, did he?" Harry frowned.

"…Yes he did. How did you know?" Sirius was definitely holding back laughter now.

"Don't you worry. At least we know the map's good. Well," he said, looking around at everyone. "That's sorted, then. Who's going to navigate?" They looked around at each other and Draco looked miserable. After the mess he had made when first given control, he was very doubtful he would even be let anywhere near the stem. Thus it came as a great surprise when Harry deliberately turned round and nominated him.

"I think Draco would make a great captain."

"What?" cried Hermione.

"He can't navigate. Look where he landed us last time!" said Severus scornfully.

"Give someone else a chance," suggested Molly.

"Yeah, I could do better and I'm blind!" exclaimed Neville. The only ones to stay silent were Trelawney, who probably didn't know what the conversation was about, and Sirius, who hadn't been on the Peach when the Disaster happened. Harry waited until they were all quiet before putting in his reasons.

"Look, yes Draco might have made a mess of the navigation last time, but he didn't have a compass then. Do you think any of us could have done it better? At least now he knows that he mustn't leave the stem without anyone there: either he needs to be there or one of us does. I think he's earned the chance. He volunteered to go to Azkaban with Severus and me, even though it was a horrible place. He refused to turn back when I was too scared to go on, indeed, without him, we might have been caught unawares by the demon-things. Let's just give him this chance, guys?" he asked pleadingly, looking around all of them with the sort of eyes only a stone could have refused.

Finally they all, grudgingly in some cases, gave their assent and Draco proudly ascended to the top of the Peach with the map, changing the stem to point the fairies in the right direction: South-East. They all then, apart from Draco, went to bed.

*To be honest, I don't really see how this works. How can they feed off happy memories, when their mere presence makes a person relive their worst ones? I could understand it being a side-effect from long exposure: the dementors eat happy memories so the only ones left are sad and fearful ones, but not as an immediate effect. Oh well, I'm sticking to canon this once.


	10. Chapter 9: Pipped to the Post

Chapter 9: Pipped to the Post

A day later had them over land and the morning after that put them near Hogwarts on the map. From the time they woke, Harry could be found somewhere on the top of the Peach leaning over to try to spot the massive castle. Every time they drifted over a mountain, he held his breath and then let it out in disappointment every time the valley was revealed with no castle in it.

Finally, when Molly had been up to give him some lunch – peach slices and peach juice – he spotted something that made him leap onto his feet. He rushed over to Draco who had just taken over from Hermione who had been guiding the Peach while he slept.

"Look! Look!" he shouted excitedly, the noise bringing a few heads poking up from below.

"What?" asked Draco. Harry pointed, tugging at his sleeve, the highest point he could reach. Draco frowned, using one of his many hands to shade his eyes while he looked where Harry was pointing. "I don't see it."

"There," said Harry with a bit of exasperation. "See that peak? Well, look down until you get to a really tall tree. A bit to the left and you're there." Draco saw what Harry was so excited about and a wide grin grew slowly on his face.

"We're here! We're here!" he shouted, just as exuberantly as Harry. They linked hands and danced around the Peach top.

"What on Earth?" cried Neville. "Come on, tell the blind worm what's going on!"

"I can see Hogwarts!" explained Harry slightly breathlessly. "I can see one of its towers!" With that there was a mad exodus into the fresh air, everyone straining to see the fabled castle.

"By Merlin, you're right," laughed Sirius. "Ah, dear old castle! How I've missed you and your wonderful pranking areas." The rest of them seemed too happy to speak.

"You got us here, Harry, you fantastic boy," said Molly happily. Harry blushed.

"I didn't do much. Everyone got us here!"

"Yes, but without you we wouldn't have left the garden, decided to come to Hogwarts, escaped the Sea Serpent, escaped the dementors or have a compass that got us here," explained Hermione gently. Harry went even more red, if it were possible, and couldn't speak. He turned his face into the comfort of Severus' bulk and the spider lifted one arm to stroke his head, feeling an overwhelming affection for this little, human boy.

So taken up by their, perhaps premature, celebrations, they didn't notice when their view of the castle was obstructed by rolling clouds. They only noticed the changing weather when a peal of thunder rumbled around their ears and lightning flashed too close. The wind started whirring. Harry shouted for the fairies to fly down but the currents of air were too unpredictable. Soon, they didn't know which way was up and which was down, tossing and tumbling in the sky.

Then, horror of horrors, the wind whipped by and one of the spider threads snapped. The fairy was soon tossed away by the wind. Harry looked at the others and realised they too were wearing thin.

"Harry," said Severus, close to Harry's ear so the wind didn't whip away his words. "We need to get up so we're closer to the fairies. The Peach provides too much wind resistance." Harry nodded.

"Quick!" he shouted. "Into the rigging!" The bugs all nodded and started moving. Harry quickly dived into the belly of the Peach to check there was nothing they wanted to keep. Assuring himself that they had everything on their persons, he climbed back out, glad to see his friends had all escaped off the Peach. He was about to follow suit when a high-pitched shrieking caught his attention.

"Harry Potter!" a voice moaned amid the high, thin sound. He turned to see one of the clouds growing, forming a shape. It was a face and Harry realised it was horribly familiar. This was the face he saw every time the dementors got close, the voice of which that had cried out the killing words. Surely this was just his imagination?

"Harry Potter!" the voice called again, growing stronger. "You cannot escape me, Harry Potter. I will have my revenge for when you banished me to this mean, spirit form."

"Leave my friends alone, Voldemort!" Harry shouted bravely, standing as tall and straight as he could in the howling gale. The voice chuckled, rolls of thunder crashing around Harry's ears.

"Your friends are nothing to me as long as they don't get in the way." Harry looked at his friends and then the cloud. He made his decision. He staggered over to the stem and started untying all the spider threads attached to it.

"Harry, No!"

"Stop!"

"Don't do this!"

Harry ignored all his friends' orders, pleads and demands, carrying on with his work. He was startled when a weight thumped down behind him. He turned to see Sirius.

"I'm not leaving you here, Harry, not this time!" Sirius told him in a firm and stern voice.

"You can't stay," argued Harry. "This is my battle. He killed my parents!"

"Who were my best friends! We both have the right to stay." Harry bared his teeth, worry giving him stubbornness. He was interrupted from what he might have said by Voldemort's voice.

"How touching," he sneered. "I said your friends meant nothing to me if they didn't get in my way. This mutt is annoying me. I do not tolerate that." An especially strong gust of wind knocked Sirius off balance and sent him teetering on the edge of the Peach. Another blow of air tipped him past the point of no return and he tumbled backwards, his feet striking the platform around the edge.

"No!" wailed Harry, inadvertently taking a few staggering steps towards where Sirius fell. He screwed up his eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears. "No," he said again in a broken voice. He might not have known Sirius for long, but with the man went all his dreams of having a family, a human family, who loved and accepted him as he was, weirdness and all. Opening his eyes, he stood up, an unyielding strength in his young and small frame.

"You took my parents. You took my godfather. You won't take my friends and you won't take me!" he yelled defiantly at Voldemort, magic in his fingers loosing the final bonds of spider thread tied around the stem. With a multi-voiced cry, the fairies and his bug friends were taken out of sight by the wind. Harry was sure the Peach must be falling at this point, but it didn't seem to change position.

"Give up, you little brat. You can do nothing to harm me. I am Lord Voldemort, ruler of all things seen and unseen. Look at me and marvel at my majesty!" said Voldemort arrogantly. "You're just a little eight year old child, weak, feeble, unable to defend yourself against your own relatives, let alone anyone else. Give in now, it'll make things easier on you. If you kneel before me now, I _might_ let you live."

Harry clenched his fist, a white-hot anger running through him, the feeling of which he had never experienced. He reached for the power within him, but came up short. What he felt was nothing compared to what he knew would be needed to vanquish this monster for good. He need to complete the job started when he was four with his mother's death.

His mother. He remembered his mother. Her beautiful red hair that fell like a cascade of red water over one side of her face when she bent to kiss him good night. He remembered the loving smile she always gave him every morning when he entered the kitchen. He remembered the way she would kiss his hurts better and scold him for dangerous or disobedient behaviour. He remembered the way his parents looked at each other with such love in their eyes, the kind of love that made him feel warm and secure just so see it. Even when his mother was telling his father off, she still had that love in her face.

His father. He remembered his father. The way he had a naughty little smile on his face every time he had set up a prank or said something he knew would set the cat among the pigeons. He remembered the stern look when Harry had tried to ride his toy broom without supervision and the serious talk afterwards about the dangers of flying. He remembered the way his father had de-aged to a child every time Uncle Padfoot came around, but was always adult enough to make sure they weren't doing anything too dangerous.

His godfather. He remembered Sirius. A man he had known for such a short time but also for so long. Sirius had been a staple part of his childhood until that horrible night. Harry realised that, filled with disappointment that his pseudo uncle had seemingly abandoned him, he had partially blocked his memories of the man during his time at the Dursleys. He remembered the fun person who was always ready for a laugh, but also the more serious man on the Peach who had discovered the depths of Hell and was there as a support. He remembered the jovial 'brother' who would romp around with him as a child in the shape of Padfoot, but also the man who had used his dog shape as a way to stay sane. He remembered Sirius' playful fights with Lily over the messes he created and the sharp, yet also playful in some ways, arguments with Severus.

Severus. He remembered the spider who had become such a support to him. The quiet and sarcastic, dark-loving creature who nonetheless had reached out to a lonely boy and provided him with a friend, a protector. Along with Molly he had been the parental influence on the journey.

Molly. He remembered the motherly ladybird who always had a kind word and loving cuddle for him. She and Hermione had been the ones there when he needed to just be mothered.

Hermione. He remembered the knowledgeable grasshopper who knew so much, but was always friendly and supportive, even though Harry felt so much less intelligent in comparison. He was always entertained by her arguments with Draco.

Draco. He remembered the fast-talking, smooth, manipulative yet also brave and fun centipede. He had discovered hidden depths to the bug, Draco letting Harry though shields he had put up to protect himself after his father's rejection. Draco had a good heart, but he wasn't always good at showing it. Multiple times Harry had had to prevent him taking out his frustrations on Neville.

Neville. He remembered the warm-hearted worm who was so very pessimistic because, as he reasoned, if he always expected the worst to happen, he would be pleasantly surprised every time. The eternal scapegoat because of the way he would let others berate him because he felt he deserved it, Harry had found him an ideal partner to defeat the Dursleys' damage to his self-esteem with. Neville might be able to take insults to himself, but he would never let one of his friends take on insults he thought were invalid.

Filled with the memories of the people he loved, alive and dead, Harry slowly raised his head. Voldemort looked into his burning and determined eyes and hesitated slightly. There had been a similar look in Lily Potter's eyes when she stood between him and the younger Harry. He then dismissed it: Potter was just a boy. What could he do?

"So, boy, have you decided to live, or to die? Perhaps if you choose to die I will go looking for those friends of yours and kill them too." With that, he sealed his fate.

"I don't really care whether I live or not as long as _you_ die," Harry said very deliberately, his voice utterly controlled. He reached within himself to touch that power he had accessed before so many times. Now, responding to his need to protect and his willingness to die to do so, more power leapt to his grasp than he thought possible. "Die, Voldemort!" he cried, loosing the power in a massive wave.

Voldemort screamed as the power hit him. He wasn't sure what colour the light was: it could have been red, but then it could have been blue or yellow or green or white or purple or… and then his thoughts were consumed by the pain. He was burned inside and out, the power ripping every molecule apart with relentless force.

With a final last attempt to hurt Harry, he sent out a concussive wave of air and lightning bolt. The bolt missed and the air lost most of its force before hitting Harry, but it did still hit Harry and the Peach. Harry was sent tumbling backwards, managing to catch onto the stem and fall into the hole. Thumping to the floor of the room inside the Peach, he lay stunned for a moment. A thin cry started outside, fading away until it fell into silence.

Then he truly was falling. Harry rose into mid-air, desperately grabbing onto something, anything that would hold him. He tumbled about, probably gaining a myriad of bruises, but luckily nothing more serious. When Harry thought the fall would never end, he suddenly jerked to a halt, slamming into the soft flesh of the Peach, no doubt leaving an imprint. Wearily, he climbed out onto the top of the Peach. The first thing he realised was that the platform had been ripped away by the winds. The second was that he couldn't see Hogwarts.


	11. Chapter 10: The Arrival

A/N: Ah...sorry? My goodness! Almost three weeks since I updated. So much for once a week. All I can say is that I've suddenly gone on a Supernatural/Harry Potter binge and I completely forgot about this. Plus I've been exploring writing a couple of new crossovers which will be posted when I've either finished them or feel there's enough there to get my teeth into. But you're probably more interested in the story.

Enjoy!

Chapter 10:

The inhabitants of Hogwarts were going about their daily routines of sleep, food, lessons, homework, food and sleep again. Some of them gossiped a little about the unexpected storm that had driven them inside the evening before, but without any sort of scandal, the talk didn't go any further than that.

One female student was walking outside. She walked slowly, her nose in a book, studying for a test the next period. Suddenly, she felt a drop of wetness land on her head. Screwing up her face in disgust, she imagined a malicious bird had just decided to ruin her day. She put her book away and quickly walked towards her dorm.

Halfway there, a housemate stopped her, asking whether there had been a food fight in the Great Hall that breakfast time.

"No, why?" she asked, confused.

"Because it looks like you've got some fruit in your hair."

"Oh," said the girl, confused. She put her hand up to feel the unpleasant mess, finding it an orange colour when she drew it away.

"Shall we go back and see where it might have come from?" her friend suggested. "Maybe it was one of those Gryffindor boys playing a prank again." The girl agreed and they retraced her steps. When they looked up, the idea of Gryffindor boys playing a prank on them went right out of their heads.

Attached to the spike on the turret sticking out from the centre of the Astronomy tower, the tallest part of Hogwarts, a massive, round, peach coloured object was sitting. It was from this object that a small dollop of fruit flesh had come. The girl couldn't resist tasting her fingers.

"It's a peach!" she cried, disbelieving. Magic school or not, there is something inherently disconcerting about a massive peach spiked onto the top of a large castle.

"Merlin," her friend breathed. "Think we ought to tell the Headmaster?" The girl agreed and they rushed off to the Headmaster's office. Getting no answer from the gargoyle guarding it, they turned instead to the Deputy's office.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore is away for the day. What is the issue?" the stern professor asked almost curtly.

"Professor, there's a huge peach on the top of the Astronomy tower."

"A peach?" The teacher sounded somewhat disbelieving.

"Yeah, a ginormous one! It dripped juice onto Tiffany's hair. Look!" They displayed the cited mess. The professor sighed.

"Very well. I shall investigate, but if this is some sort of prank, I promise I will not be lenient."

Once outside, the two students were treated to the sight of their cool and collected Deputy Head losing her composure. Her eyebrows rose and her mouth slackened slightly. There was movement on the top of the peach and, by squinting, the Deputy could just about make out the shape of a human peering over the edge. Whether male or female, adult or child, she couldn't yet tell: it was too far away.

Pursing her lips, the Deputy regained her lost calm manner.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Now, Miss Egglebert, could you go fetch Professor Flitwick and Miss Tretson, could you find Professor Lupin. I believe he is in his office at this point. Thank you." The two girls went off on their errands. All the while the peach had been dripping its juice and even bits of flesh all over the courtyard and down the Astronomy tower. By this point the commotion in the main courtyard had started attracting attention from people who had a free. The crowd grew further the two called for professors came, Flitwick bringing his class with him. Despite the Deputy's remonstrations, this was too exciting to go inside.

"My my," Flitwick chuckled. "Someone's engorgement charms went a little awry, I think."

"Yes, well," the Deputy said dryly "I think the perpetrator might be sitting on the fruit itself." Lupin's eyebrows went skyward.

"You mean there's someone up there?" The Deputy nodded. "Then we must get him or her down immediately! Who knows when that charm will lose its magic!" Both other professors agreed.

"But how?" questioned the Deputy.

"I'll fly up on a broom," Lupin offered. The Deputy nodded again.

"Very well, as long as I don't have to get up on it." She shivered visibly.

"Yes, Minerva," Flitwick interjected with a note of amusement in his voice. "I heard last time you went up on broom you got stuck in a tree and couldn't get down. Really doing the cat image a lot of good, that." Minerva glared at him.

"I'll thank you to hold your tongue about that…incident…when students are in earshot." While they carried on their little, uh, cat-fight, Lupin rolled his eyes and summoned his broom. He then took off towards the peach, quickly drawing level with the top.

As suspected, there was indeed a person there, only, not an adult. Not even a teenager. The child in front of Lupin certainly didn't look old enough to even be at Hogwarts. In fact, if he had to take a guess, he would estimate the boy at about six, maybe seven. Smiling kindly, he asked the boy his name.

Now, Lupin could perhaps be forgiven for not recognising the son of his best friend. Harry had, under the 'care' of his relatives, become much thinner than he should have been. In addition, since his escape, though he had tried to keep reasonably clean, living inside a giant fruit was not conducive to good hygiene. To add to this, of course, the way down to his current position had involved him slamming into every available surface inside the peach. As a result, he was liberally coated in peach juice turning him an orangey colour. His hair was a mat of dried and still sticky juices, sticking firmly over his forehead and that – unknown to Harry- famous scar. His eyes were the only remaining feature unaltered by circumstances, but considering he was at present too nervous to look the strange man directly in the eye, Lupin was kept from their true piercing greenness.

Harry's immediate reaction to being asked his name was to give it, 'Harry Potter'. Remembering, however, his teacher's firm instructions to be careful with strangers and never give them personal information unless a trusted adult said otherwise, he thought he had better be cautious.

"James," he said warily. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie: his middle name _was_ 'James' after all. The man just gave him another kind smile that made him just want to trust the strangely familiar person in front of him.

"Well, James, my name is Remus Lupin. Call me Remus. Do you know where you are?" he asked, deciding he'd better find out whether the boy was a muggle who had somehow got involved in a wizard's work or a young wizard who had accidentally enlarged a peach. 'James' looked around and then sighed miserably.

"I wanted to get to Hogwarts, but I can't see it now." Remus felt like laughing, but he kept it to another smile, not wanting to frighten or offend the child.

"James, we are currently impaled on a spike rising up from Hogwarts' tallest tower."

Harry felt his eyes widen in the delight that suddenly coursed through him.

"We're at Hogwarts, really?" The man, Remus Lupin, just nodded.

"Would you like to come and see it?" He offered. Harry nodded wildly. The bugs would be so…. He stopped short, his grin falling. Remus quickly noticed the change in the boy's mood.

"What's wrong, James?" he asked softly.

"I had…. My friends didn't…. I came with some others. We were all so excited, but now they're not here." He looked so miserable Remus' heart went out to him.

"Well, there are a lot of really good witches and wizards down there. Maybe one or more of them could help find your friends for you." He smiled at 'James' and Harry gave a tentative one back. Remus then got 'James' to sit behind him on the broom and wrap small arms around his waist. He then gently tipped them towards the ground. The arms around his waist tightened but when they landed, Remus saw the boy had the biggest grin on his face.

"You like flying, huh?" he asked softly. Harry nodded fervently in return. The feeling of swooping through the air, that weightless sensation, was magnificent. Far better from flying on the Peach which had barely felt like flying at all. Suddenly noticing all the people around him, he shrank back a little into Remus: the only somewhat familiar person in this multitude.

"You've got him then, Remus?" a jovial voice said. Harry looked and realised the man who had spoken was barely bigger than he was!

"Well Filius, you and Minerva seemed so engrossed in your conversation that I thought I should get the ball rolling a little," Remus drawled. 'Filius' smiled.

"Be that as it may, I had better get introduced to this little man here. You are human, are you not?" Harry frowned at him.

"Of course I am!" he said indignantly.

"No offence meant, no insult intended. I merely wanted to make sure. _I_ am not entirely human after all." Harry's eyebrows disappeared into the matted mess of his hair. "Now, what might you be called, young man?"

"I'm James," Harry said, sticking to his decision.

"My name is Filius Flitwick. I'm the Charms teacher at this school. Now, let's get this peach of yours down."

"Please be careful," Harry said anxiously, then shrank back when Flitwick looked at him. "I mean…" he trailed off unsure what to say but not wanting this man to get angry with him.

"Have some sentimental feeling attached to it, do you?" he asked kindly. "I mean, you like it, correct?" he reiterated seeing Harry's slight incomprehension. Harry nodded. "Well don't worry. I'll just levitate it up off the spike and then down onto the ground here."

"Not here exactly, Filius," a new voice said. A stern looking woman in a tall witch's hat and flowing black robes approached them.

"Minerva McGonagall," she introduced herself as. "Transfiguration professor. And who might you be?" she asked, her voice a little more kind.

"J-James," Harry said, slightly intimidated.

"James? And what is your surname name, might I ask?" Harry felt as though he must answer and couldn't lie, but on the other hand, he didn't want them to know anything about him that could send him back to the Dursleys. Instead, trembling, he stayed silent. McGonagall just regarded him silently, her eyes piercing, then turned back towards the bouncy little teacher. "Levitate it to the lawn outside the main walls. That way it won't block this through-way and provide a distraction to students." The Charms teacher nodded and everyone proceeded outside.

"So, James, what brings you to Hogwarts?" Remus asked while Minerva and Filius tried to shoo the students back inside. The end of his sentence, however, was drowned out by the sound of an engine sputtering and groaning. Everyone, including the students and the remonstrating teachers, looked down the lawn towards the Forbidden Forest where a very battered looking car was just driving up to them.

The car, which by the paintwork still left among the scratches used to be silver, clanked to a halt just in front of the Peach. Out of it, to Harry's horror, staggered a whale, a pig and a giraffe. Only, the actual animals would have been a more welcome sight.

"See, Petunia," said the whale proudly. "I told you that GPS tracker* would do the job!"

"Ah, who, might I ask, are you?" Filius asked politely. Vernon looked down at him patronisingly.

"A dwarf, I think, Petunia. Probably been deformed since birth," he 'whispered' to his wife. Unfortunately or not, he seemed to miss the point of a whisper and everyone could hear it. Harry noticed several people bristle, obviously taking insult on behalf of their professor. The man in question, however, kept smiling genially. "We. Are. The. Dursley. Family.," Vernon half-shouted, obviously thinking that a physical 'deformity' would also mean Flitwick was both deaf and slow. "We. Are. Here. To. Retrieve. The. Peach."

"Thank you, Mr Dursley," said Flitwick at a normal level. "There is no need to shout. Now, are we to understand that the peach belongs to you?"

"Yes," said Vernon, dropping his 'talking-to-the-stupid-person' voice. "See here." He shoved a newspaper cutting under the noses of Flitwick, Lupin and McGonagall who had come to support their colleague.

'Dursley Family Produces Record-Punching Peach!" the headline screamed, a big picture of the Dursleys next to the Peach next to the article.

"My, the picture doesn't move!" exclaimed Flitwick.

"Of course it doesn't move," frowned Vernon, his wife scowling behind him. Dudley had been scowling all the way though so no-one took any notice of him. "What kind of freaks do you take us for?" He looked around and sniffed. "Besides, why do you think you can cast aspersions when you're standing next to a ruined castle?" He dismissed the issue, poking the picture firmly. "You see this picture here? You think there's another huge peach in this country? This is our peach and we want to take it home now."

"And the young lad who was riding it?" The Dursley couple exchanged a glance.

"I suppose we'd better take the boy too," Vernon said grudgingly.

At those words a shock of horror went through Harry's system, freezing him in place. To go back to that hellhouse now he knew what life could be like? Now he had discovered people who thought more of him than a worthless slave or delinquent child, to still return to the place of nightmares? Now he had got to Hogwarts, his dream?

_No_. The thought was faint at first but gained strength as soon as it was thought. _No, I will not go back! Whether Severus, Molly, Hermione, Neville, Sirius, Draco and Trelawney are alive or not, I will not go back to the Dursleys._ It was a new idea to disobey the Dursleys, but one that once taken root continued to grow.

"So we'll be on our way with the Peach, then," boomed Vernon.

"And the boy," Petunia added, a sneer in her voice.

"Mummy, I'm tired and hungry and I'm missing my TV shows," whined Dudley. "I wanna go home!" Petunia turned to her son, a sickly smile on her face.

"We'll be going in a moment sweetums. You've been such a good boy on this trip, haven't you Dudley-diddums," she gushed, kissing his forehead. "We'll have to give you a treat."

"I wanna new TV," he demanded.

"Of course, darling," Looking around Harry realised that there were quite a few others who looked as sick as he felt. The teachers looked at each other.

"Well, it seems legit," said Flitwick doubtfully. "Though how they're going to get this huge fruit home without magic, I don't know."

"Do you have any identity papers proving your guardianship of the child?" asked Lupin. Something about these three was rubbing him up the wrong way….

"Here," Petunia said, thrusting a photo under his nose where the three Dursleys were standing proudly, beaming smiles on their faces. To the side of the picture looking forlorn, though trying to smile, 'James' stood, separated from the family by more than space**. Lupin looked from 'James' to the picture. Yes, that was the same child if all that peach juice was washed out and the hair was allowed a little extra wave. He frowned. The child in the picture was exceedingly familiar. Now, who could he be thinking of….

His thought process was interrupted by the Dursley father pushing rudely past him and trying to roll the Peach. Of course, it was far too heavy for a single man to even shift, let alone roll. To help him out, so the family would leave quickly, Flitwick levitated it into the trailer. Petunia paled, Vernon paled and then went red, Dudley played on his game-boy.

A/N *OK, I know this wasn't invented in the late 1980's, but I needed a way for these three to make their way to Hogwarts for 'the final confrontation'. Besides, it fits with the original film where Spiky and Sponge make their way to New York in a manner which makes no logical sense.

**And why do the Dursleys have a family picture of Harry, you might ask? Because…because they were forced to take him with them to the photographer since he legally couldn't be left alone in the house and since he was with them at the place, they were kinda obliged to take a photo with him in it. They kept it because somehow the contrast of his miserable, dark-haired, waifness made the family seem so much happier and better off. But they didn't want others to see it so Petunia kept it in her purse instead of as a big photo. Yeah.


	12. Chapter 11: I came, I saw, I

A/N: After the slight cliffhanger I left you last time and the long wait before, I thought I'd better post this chapter a little earlier than normal. And since I'm a teacher trainee on school placement who also has a life, (though not much of one considering I'm waking up at 6:30, going to bed at 10:30 and spending most of my waking hours either at school, planning, evaluating or other assorted paperwork) if I don't update now, I won't before the weekend. This will be the last chapter before the epilogue. Probably that will be posted at the weekend, as long as I remember.

Enjoy!

Chapter 11: I came, I saw, I...

"_Come on, boy," Vernon barked angrily at Harry. Harry found himself shaking his head unconsciously. He would not go back!_

"_No," he said softly. _

Vernon frowned.

"What was that, boy? Stop mumbling and speak up!"

"No," Harry repeated, raising his head to stare Vernon in the eyes, his gaze determined. Vernon's face went red and he got out of the car, seeming to forget the wizards in front of him.

"No? You're coming with us, boy, whether you like it or not!" There was a disapproving murmur from the crowd of onlookers and Petunia hurriedly got out to join her husband, taking his arm while darting glances at the magical people.

"What your dear uncle means, Harry, is that we've really been missing you at home," she said in a simpering, sickly-sweet tone of voice. Harry didn't budge.

"No, I'm not coming back with you to that hell house! I'd rather die!" he declared.

"Harry?" Lupin asked with a frown. "I thought his name was James?" Petunia sent a concerned look Harry's way.

"Oh Harry dear, have you been lying again?" Looking at Lupin she shrugged, lifting her hands into the air as if to say 'what can you do?'.

"His name is Harry, not James. Unfortunately, he's been diagnosed as a pathological liar. We are trying to teach him to be honest, but it's hard work." Harry glared at her.

"I don't tell lies; they do!" he accused. McGonagall looked down at him.

"But if you told us your name is James and it is actually Harry, you lied to us."

"I didn't lie," Harry said mulishly. "I just bent the truth a bit. James is my middle name." Lupin's eyes went wide. Harry James…it couldn't be…could it?

"Most would say that's lying," Flitwick said gently. "You knew what we were asking for and you gave us inaccurate information."

"The boy's a liar and that's all there is to it," snapped Vernon. "Now, get in the car," he ordered curtly.

"I'm not going back there," Harry repeated once more.

"James, Harry, whatever your name is, if these people are your legal guardians, you must go with them," reasoned Flitwick.

"I won't! I'm going to live with people who care about me!" Vernon snorted.

"Who? Your imaginary friends?" Harry glared.

"No! My insect friends!"

"Your insect friends?" Petunia asked, a note of condescending in her voice. She turne to the wizards, her hands outstretched. "You see, the boy's incorrigible How can insects be friends? They can't even speak."

"They can too! It was the magical lemon drops the old man gave to me!"

"OK, enough, Harry. You're going to get in the car and we're going to go home," Petunia snapped. "No more of your ridiculous stories!"

"No, wait," said Lupin who had exchanged a glance with the other teachers upon hearing 'old man', 'magical' and 'lemon drops' in the same sentence. It seemed a little far-fetched, but…. "Let the boy speak," he ordered quietly. "Go on, Harry."

Harry, sensing the drama of the moment, went and climbed on the trailer to stand next to the Peach.

"This old man came one night while I was gardening and gave me some magical lemon drops. Dudley tripped me up the next morning and they scattered everywhere. Next thing I knew, a peach was growing on a tree that had never even blossomed, growing far faster and far bigger than any peach had ever grown before. The Dursleys took advantage of its gigantic size to make money and I was sent to clean up afterwards."

He went on to tell them about the first meeting with his bug friends, the fight with the Sea Serpent, the deal with the fairies, the flight and getting lost. Everyone's interest sharpened at the mention of Azkaban and the daring rescue from the dementors. The professors in particular jerked when Sirius Black was mentioned and gasps, not all of them disbelieving, rang out at the revelation of his innocence. Collective flinches affected everyone but Harry and the Dursleys at the utterance of Voldemort's name and many eyebrows were raised at the tale of his final defeat. Finally, Harry finished at the point where Lupin had come and told him they were, despite his disbelief, at Hogwarts.

By this point it was break time and the crowd had swelled with the influx of more curious students and professors. As it turned out, most of Hogwarts had heard at least half his tale. Silence pervaded the lawn after Harry's final words, a respect for his story if not for his adventure. It was abruptly broken by Vernon's derisive snort.

"I've never heard such a pack of lies in all my life! Get over here now, boy!" He stomped towards Harry who scrambled up the side of the peach, digging his fingers into its flesh to help him climb. It was a rather amusing sight for the onlookers to see the large man try and fail the follow the small boy, his weight too much for the peach flesh to support.

"Get down here boy!" Vernon yelled, infuriated. "Get here now or I'll give you a good-" he was nudged firmly in the ribs by his wife "-talking to when we get home." Harry's temper suddenly broke, seeing the looks on the faces around him that didn't seem inclined to help him.

"I'm not coming back with you to that place where you beat me," the crowd gasped "starve me," everyone gasped once again "work me half to death," Lupin started for the Dursleys, eyes burning amber, and was held back by Flitwick "and then lock me in a tiny cupboard when you've no more use for me!" Now Flitwick had to hold back McGonagall as well.

"He's lying, he's lying," Petunia cried, a note of desperation in her voice. She was observant enough to realise the crowd's sympathies were changing in Harry's favour. "Now Harry, remember what your therapist has told you about making yourself out to be a victim?" Her syrupy voice fooled no one, though: everyone could hear the wobble in it.

"How dare you!" roared Vernon, drowning Petunia out. "We give you a roof over your head, food and the clothes on your back, and this is how you repay us?!" Everyone noted the baggy and ripped t-shirt and trousers that hung like rags on Harry's thin frame.

"No, Dursley, you'll get your proper comeuppance soon enough." A new, cold voice broke in from above.

Floating down, still holding the spider's thread attached to fairies, Harry's friends came to his rescue. Harry was elated to see even Sirius was there. They landed on top of the Peach next to Harry and he embraced them all.

"You're OK," he whispered gratefully.

"You couldn't be rid of us if you wanted to be," smiled Molly. Harry hugged Sirius last of all.

"How…?" was all he could ask. Sirius winked, then grimaced.

"Severus saved me," he replied grudgingly.

"Sirius Black!" cried several voices fearfully. Suddenly, Sirius' nose went up, he turned into a dog and then bounded into the crowd. There was a commotion and McGonagall, face pale, raised her wand, to do what, Harry wasn't sure.

Then, as quickly as he had gone in, Sirius bounced back out of the chaotic mass. Harry saw that he had an odd, squirming object in his mouth, Instead of returning to the Peach, though, Sirius ran up to the three original professors and spat the object out, He quickly transformed and snatched the grey thing up in one hand. Harry realised Sirius was holding a rat. The reason for a moment escaped him until Sirius thrust the animal in Lupin's face crying:

"Remus, Remus, change him back!" Lupin looked slightly overwhelmed. Harry didn't blame him, having been on the end of Siru's exuberance before.

"Sirius, I mean, Black, what are you on about?" Suddenly remembering this was a dangerous criminal, he pointed his wand at his erstwhile friend.

"It's Pettigrew, Remus. I didn't kill him or those muggles. Look at him!" Remus did, though he seemed to be humouring Sirius until he had had a closer look at the rat. His face took on an ashen cast and he looked up at Sirius in horror.

"Could it be…animagus revealo!" A jet of light hit the rat. The onlookers watching avidly saw Black drop the rat which shook and then exploded into a rather ratty man with short, brown hair that looked like fur, and watery blue eyes.

"Peter Pettigrew?" breathed McGonagall.

"P-P-Professor," mumbled Pettigrew. "It's not what it looks like!"

"Oh, ye great cad," asked McGonagall, her eyes flashing and her Scottish accent becoming more prominent. "So ye didnae frame Black here?"

"Well, I…. You see…." Pettigrew's eyes darted around as he trailed off and then, without warning, he transformed back into a rat and went scurrying off.

"Catch that rat!" yelled Lupin. There was complete pandemonium for several minutes until the cold and almost inherently threatening voice of Severus Spider cut through the ruckus.

"Silence!" He didn't shout, but the noise and confusion ceased anyway. Sirius looked up at Harry, his expression of self-loathing hollowing his eyes and making him look half-dead.

"I lost him. I can't believe I lost him," he murmured, almost to himself. Severus cleared his throat and held up a web-coated, squirming bundle. Sirius suddenly looked hopeful, his eyes sparkling once more.

"Is that…?" Severus nodded. Sirius whooped.

"Thanks Spidie, I owe you one."

"You owe me a lot more than _one_, dog," Severus told Sirius smugly.

"I don't know what the bloody Hell's going on here," broke in Vernon having exhausted his patience long ago, "but I want my property back and I want it now! I'm not telling you again, boy. I've given you an order and you'll follow it now or it's be the worse for you!" Sirius drew himself up to his full height, dwarfing Harry's uncle even with his scrawny frame.

"I _do_ hope you weren't calling Harry your _property_, Dursley. I'm taking charge of Harry from now on as the person his parents appointed as godfather." Vernon shrugged.

"Fine, take the brat. It's not as though we ever wanted him in the first place. We wouldn't have kept him if he hadn't been marginally useful, anyway." Harry bit his lip and blinked back tears. OK, he had always known the Dursleys disliked him, but it was one thing to know and another entirely to be told as bluntly as that. Scrambling down the Peach, he cuddled into Sirius' side and his godfather put a comforting arm around him.

"Listen, Dursley," started Sirius savagely. "Once I've cleared my name, my first act will be to get custody of Harry. After that, I'm going to go to my lawyer and slap every charge on you that will stick." He listed some, watching sadistically as Petunia and Vernon's faces paled further with each item. "There's a whole range: child abuse; child endangerment; emotional abuse; misappropriation of funds, as I'm sure you've been getting an allowance for Harry's care that hasn't gone anywhere near his upkeep; slander; anything else I or my lawyer can think of. By the end of it, you're going to wish you'd never heard the name of Harry James Potter!" The few who hadn't yet made the connections to Harry's true identity gasped as the victimised waif they were watching turned out to be their precious boy-who-lived.

Without another word the Dursleys sped off, minus one trailer that Draco had quietly unhitched during the drama. Sirius turned with a satisfied look on his face to the insects on board the Peach. Severus sent down a line and Sirius pulled both himself and Harry up to the pseudo stage.

Amid the volley of questioning that suddenly started battering at them all, Sirius looked down at Harry who, despite his best efforts, had let two tears fall.

"Hey, kiddo, no need to cry," Sirius said gently, holding Harry's head with his hands and using his thumb to wipe away the tears. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He shook himself a little to free himself from Sirius' hands and then, to Sirius' surprise, buried himself in Sirius' stomach, his arms tight around his dog-father's waist.

"Thank you." The words were so faint that Sirius could hardly hear them, but he did and they brought a faint smile to his face.

"I think I should be thanking you, Harry." When Harry made to shake his head, Sirius stopped him with a hand on the back of his neck. "No, I might have chased off the Dursleys for you. I might be offering you a home, though to be honest, there would be people queuing up if they knew you had a need, but you've given me a whole lot more than that. You gave me my freedom, my absolution and my reason to keep living. I love you kiddo, I just want you to know that, 'kay?"

When Sirius felt Harry start to shake and realised he was crying from overwhelming emotions and the knowledge that, even though his parents were dead, he was with someone who wanted him, someone who loved him, he took his new son into the comfortable belly of the Peach for a little privacy.


	13. Epilogue: All's Well that Ends Well

A/N It's been a crazy week. Getting up at 6:30am and finishing my work at 9:30pm hasn't left much time for writing. But I've managed to get this ready, so that's something.

Enjoy!

Chapter 12: All's well that ends well.

Well, there's not much more to say about the story of Harry and the adventure with the Giant Peach that changed his life.

True to his word, Sirius took Pettigrew into the Ministry the next day, Remus Lupin and Filius Flitwick by his side to prevent the aurors arresting him immediately. The trial was over quickly with the aid of veritaserum and the embarrassed court awarded Sirius recompense for the two years he had spent in jail unjustly. Then, with the ink on his court order still wet, he went to the custody office to register his guardianship of Harry, in the process also making Harry his son and heir.

The man at the custody office had tried to make a fuss, probably to do with prejudices or something, but his efforts had come to naught. Sirius was not a criminal; the court order attested to that. He was also Harry's godfather; the person nominated by Harry's parents to take care of Harry above all others. They had both gone out of the Ministry that morning with beaming smiles on their faces.

That afternoon, the lawyer the Black family kept on retainer received a summons to a particular room in the Leaky Cauldron. There, he was given orders to charge Vernon and Petunia Dursley with anything that would stick, magical or muggle. They ended up with combined prison sentences of fifteen years and almost every penny they owned forfeited.

Dudley went to stay with his Aunt Marge, but when she passed away from heart failure a few years later, ended up in the system. He went through several foster homes, each changing him and not always in a good way. He finally found his niche in one home which took in quite a few kids who were going down the wrong track, as it were. There he stayed until he was eighteen and was released on the world. He became a decent roofer, working in a firm for a few years until he had some experience and then set off to be self-employed. He and Harry ended up exchanging greetings at Christmas, but nothing much else: Vernon and Petunia hadn't exactly encouraged a family bond between the two to form and for a long time Dudley had felt resentment for his parents' prison sentences.

As it turned out, the Dumbledore who had given Harry the magical lemon drops which had started everything off was in fact, the same Dumbledore who ran Hogwarts. Harry and Sirius had gone up to question the Headmaster soon after Harry's adoption. Sirius asked why Dumbledore, if he had decided Harry's caretakers weren't acceptable, didn't simply step in and take Harry out. Dumbledore had twinkled at them and then said conspiratorially:

"It has always been a cherished belief of mine that every child should experience at least one adventure before coming to school. Otherwise, what will he or she do when faced with wilder school adventures with no prior experience?" He had then shooed them out of his office and no amount of questions or subtle prods would make him re-open the subject. Sirius had turned to Harry when they had once again reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office.

"You're absolutely forbidden from going on any wild adventures at school," he told Harry sternly. "You'll have me dying of heart failure before your seventh year, otherwise." He suddenly grinned. "Pranks are permissible, though." With that, they went away to plan a suitable prank on the annoyingly enigmatic and irresponsible old Headmaster. Who gives a child magical lemon drops to send them off on some dangerous adventure after all, for Merlin's sake?

As for Harry's friends, they all found their niches in the massive castle, literally in one case.

Severus became the first spider potions master: having an extra two arms, three if he pushed it, to do things with helped a huge amount. Harry sometimes wondered if the reason he liked potions so much was that they were best done down in the dark and still air of the dungeons. Certainly, the times anyone saw him above ground were few and getting fewer.

The first potion he perfected was the growing potion. People had wondered why he was putting so much effort into a potion that wasn't actually used that much, but they found out soon enough. Severus had been given a whole room to live in and he had spun webs from floor to ceiling. He then put engorgement potion on some sugar cubes and put them out. Any fly that landed on the sugar and tasted the engorgement potion would grow to an enormous size. Severus would then catch the fly and shove it into his room where he would sadistically watch it bumbling around and getting itself stuck in his web. On the days he couldn't be bothered to put the effort in, or flies weren't around, he would get some chicken blood from the kitchens. The House-Elves were rather terrified of him, it had to be said.

Hermione had immured herself in the library, only coming out for a bite to eat and a drop to drink and then returning to inhaling the books. She was perfectly happy to chat about them inside the library, as long as the visitors didn't stay too long, and had struck up a predictable relationship with Madam Pince, the librarian.

Neville, too, had made a firm friend in Professor Sprout, the herbology teacher. They had bonded over love of nature, Neville enamoured of all the different types of dirt and Sprout a lover of the plants that could be grown in those soil types. They made a good team with Neville's digesting efforts making Hogwarts' greenhouse grounds the most fertile for miles.

Draco was a disrupter plain and simple. He ended up specialising in throwing parties for all occasions, whether it was a 'we've won!' after-Quidditch party, or a winter ball, he was the being to go to for advice. In between times, he threw a regular soiree twice a week which only got wilder as the night went on. The professors allowed it as long as students below sixth year went to bed before eleven and everything finished before two am. Of course, for those students who fell asleep in class the next morning, there was no exception given. Being the centre of attention suited him and he fairly blossomed under the worshiping eyes of Hogwarts' population who had been almost dying of boredom before he came. At least, that's what he said and Harry chose to believe him.

Trelawney had made a friend of the Divination professor over tea leaves, horoscopes and sherry. They regularly caroused far into the night and Trelawney eventually went to live with her friend, to help clear her inner eye, she said. Harry went to visit her in the North tower every so often, but she had begun a rather disturbing and discomforting habit of predicting his death or maiming every five minutes.

Molly, well, Molly had firmly planted herself within Hogwarts' staff team. Every year several children were homesick, mostly first years but it wasn't unknown for second, third or even fourth years to get a bit mopey at the start of the year. Molly comforted them and made them hot chocolate, eventually turning into the school councillor as children came to her for support for other reasons. Bullying was a common issue as she wasn't seen as a teacher and she kept their confessions confidential. Abuse or unhappiness at home, too, was another common cause of children coming to her for support as, being an insect, she was seen as a much safer person to talk to than the teachers. Sometimes this unhappiness could be because of a death or even a birth, if the child felt as if he or she was being neglected by his or her parents in favour of the new baby. Either way, she had children coming to her so often that the Headmaster gave her an office and place to sleep inside the castle.

The Peach, juicy and delicious as it was, was soon consumed by the hungry residents of the castle and its stone was made into a place to go to in the gardens when it was wet or cold outside.

And Harry? Well, Harry was as happy as could be with his new father. Not that life was without its little bumps and arguments, but he never felt unloved or unwanted. His friends and Sirius formed a strong support network that never let him fall. When he was angry with Sirius, he could go to another, usually Severus or Molly, and find sympathy, though not always agreement. His friends would help talk the two of them round when their tempers got the better of them: without them, Harry was sure he and Sirius wouldn't have got on as easily as they had.

Harry never actually left Hogwarts. Well, he did for short amounts of time: a shopping trip here, a holiday there, but his place of residence remained Hogwarts. Sirius solved Dumbledore's problem of finding a Defence against the Dark Arts by becoming its teacher. Whether the curse was broken by Voldemort's final defeat, or Sirius' sheer skill stopped it taking effect, he was still there when Harry finished Hogwarts' education system.

With the aid of his friends: Hermione helping him find the right books in the library, Severus helping him with potions, Neville with herbology, Molly with making sure he kept his nose to the grind stone when necessary and Draco making him relax when not, he graduated with top NEWTs scores. He went on to become a successful lawyer and then, when he found out the wizarding world's rather lax stance on how children were treated at home, went into politics. He became Minister for Magic in his sixties retiring after two terms in office to found a couple of good orphanages: there was no such thing in the wizarding world prior to that.

Sirius, as stated before, became a Hogwarts' professor and happily passed on more than the curriculum knowledge to his students, to the exasperation of his colleagues. Proud of his son and with a circle of close friends he could depend on, he couldn't think of anything better.

And that, dear readers, is the end of this tale.

**Extra by request of Wing-Gundamknight100**

A figure was sneaking through the darkness towards a white house with a picket fence. A house that even in the night time looked exactly like the others around it. The figure paused behind a bush and reached into its pocket. Lifting it's hand to its lips, Sirius spoke to the spider in his palm.

"You know, I quite like you this size. At least if you try to bite me, you won't even pierce my skin. Maybe I should keep you like this…."

"You flea-bitten mutt," Severus Spider said in an annoyed tone, though smaller and squeakier tone than usual. "If you dare even think about it I'll make your life a living hell. You know I can, even like this. There'll always be dead flies in your food and webs to whisper across your face in the middle of the night. Not to mention tickles on your neck at the worst possible times during your classes. And stop calling me 'Spidie'!"

"Ok, fine," Sirius laughed. "'sides, Harry would never let me do it. I'll stop calling you Spide if you'll stop calling me a flea-bitten mutt." Severus considered it.

"Fine. Now, make me bigger." Sirius chuckled and then cast a finite incantatem on Severus, restoring him to his large dimensions. Sirius then unlocked the back door and they both slipped in. Severus headed straight upstairs to where two sets of thunderous snores were coming from. Sirius went to the kitchen instead.

Looking through the cupboards he finally smiled in triumph. He had found the hot-sauce. Humming happily to himself, he went to the fridge and then to the pantry, putting a dollop of hot-sauce into everything. The milk, the butter, last night's remains, the fresh veg, the cream, that desert which had only just been opened…. Casting a few quick glamours, Sirius smirked. The Dursleys would be on fire for weeks and never know why.

There was a whisper of movement behind him and Sirius turned to see Severus coming into the kitchen. His smirk matched Sirius'.

"All done?" Sirius checked. Severus nodded.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to speak to Harry's dear relatives. They're a little…wrapped up at the moment."

Within a few moments they were gone and everything looked exactly as it had before. Well, almost everything.

Severus looked at the muggle newspaper he had had delivered.

CHARLOTTE'S WEB CATCHES TWO NEWLY RELEASED CONVICTS  
_ A concerned neighbour called emergency services today, worried about the sounds she had been hearing from next door. When personnel arrived, they found the two house owners Petunia (43) and Vernon Dursley (44) (recently released from prison on charges of child abuse) wrapped up in their bedroom and hanging from the ceiling. _

_Wrapped up was this time a literal interpretation as the two were totally trapped in what has tested to be spider silk. When the sticky silk was removed, the two house owners were revealed to be in their underwear, causing the removal to be similar to a whole-body wax. Their shrieks attested to the painfulness of the procedure. _

_The substance which trapped the Dursleys and hoisted them up into the air has baffled experts as no spider has ever been recorded to grow large enough to produce silk of such dimensions. Scientists are now wondering whether someone has managed to reproduce spider silk without the use of an actual spider. _

_Anyone with any information pertaining to this matter are highly encouraged to phone in and help solve the mystery. _

Above the article was a good picture of Severus' handiwork. He smirked at their expressions of fear and the reddened skin showing from where his silk had been ripped away. Thankfully the picture had been taken not long after the process had started so very little skin was showing to scar the minds of its viewers.

Just as he was about to cut the article out so as to preserve it for later gloating purposes, the newspaper was ripped away. He looked up to glare at the intruder to his lair.

"Give it back you maggot-ridden mongrel!" he hissed at the identification of practically the only one who would dare do something like this. Sirius just smirked at him.

"Nope, gotta catch me first, you eight-legged excuse for a nightmare!" With that he turned into Padfoot, barked happily and ran off down the corridors, Severus in hot pursuit.

Well, I hope you've enjoyed it. I feel quite proud of myself for actually finishing another multi-chapter instead of just having a load of unfinished stories and ideas sitting on my hard-drive. Any feedback's welcome. Wing-Gundamknight100, I hope this met your expectactions.


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